


Roses and Tequila for Santa Muerte

by Conduitstreetcat, TheGreenFaerie



Series: Symbiotic Criminal Psychopaths [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adorable little shits slowdancing, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blood, Day of Domination, Feels, Fighting, Guilt, Guns, Jealousy, Knife Play, M/M, Roleplay, Spoilers for Book 1 - A Game of Thrones, Talking, Tiger in biker gear stripping, faerie tale, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 96,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conduitstreetcat/pseuds/Conduitstreetcat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenFaerie/pseuds/TheGreenFaerie
Summary: This is the fifth book in the Symbiotic Criminal Psychopaths series. It is advised that you start at the beginning, as it's a continuous story.Kiss or Kill starts a year after Rooftop Hell, when Sebastian Moran has got sick of pining for his heartless bastard of a boss, and decided to start living again.But Jim Moriarty has other plans....The previous books are:1 Kiss or Kill: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14583459/chapters/337018082 Unholy Union: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923773/chapters/345719613 Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368880/chapters/356632624 Paradise Lost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987896/chapters/37298201A growing playlist can be found here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/49dBIdkcHToL5wsDzByGVR





	1. FUCK YOU, You Little Shit

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fifth book in the Symbiotic Criminal Psychopaths series. It is advised that you start at the beginning, as it's a continuous story.
> 
> Kiss or Kill starts a year after Rooftop Hell, when Sebastian Moran has got sick of pining for his heartless bastard of a boss, and decided to start living again.  
> But Jim Moriarty has other plans....
> 
> The previous books are:  
> 1 Kiss or Kill: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14583459/chapters/33701808  
> 2 Unholy Union: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923773/chapters/34571961  
> 3 Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368880/chapters/35663262  
> 4 Paradise Lost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987896/chapters/37298201
> 
> A growing playlist can be found here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/49dBIdkcHToL5wsDzByGVR

The sound of the sea... waves crashing against the shore... wind rattling the windows...this is what brings me back to consciousness. I inhale deeply as I slowly become aware of lying in bed. Was I dreaming? It's so strange not to remember my dreams... there was something about slow dancing in a bedroom - no, that was _real_ , Seb... I smile, and open my eyes.

 _Kitten_...  
You're still sleeping...murmuring, but not in distress.

I know I should leave you alone to sleep, but-  
I pull you against me. There's no way I can wake up to a Kitten without engaging in cuddling.  
You open one eye, smile and bury your face in your pillow.

"You're fucking adorable, Boss - you know that?"

"Shhh.." you whisper. "He's sleeping..."

"Who do you think you're fooling? I know you're not sleeping, because some selfish Tiger woke you up..."

"Why would he do that, Sebastian?" you mumble in mock sorrow.

"Maybe you were just too adorable for him to resist..." I say softly and then pounce on you, making you laugh and squirm.

_“Leave the poor Kitten alone... he was up half the night staring at his Tiger...”_

_You stop, lift your head, look at me in surprise. “Were you?”_

_“Not half the night...” I mumble, “just... an hour or so... You’re so beautiful as you sleep...”_

_And then my speech is cut off by Tiger kisses, which are the best kisses, so I’m not complaining._

_When I’m let up for air I stretch my arms, look at the sun outside our window - around eight I’d guess._

_“You should sleep a bit more... you’re a recovering invalid...”_

_You raise an eyebrow at that and growl something about showing me how recovered you are as you are pinning me to the bed and kissing my neck, which makes me groan and arch my back._

 

 

"I didn't have nearly as much sex as I wanted the last couple of days..." I say hoarsely against your neck. "This is our honeymoon, for fuck's sake. You and I are making up for lost time _now_..."

I kiss you hungrily, feeling the heat rise between us as your hands lift to my face and you kiss me back. I pull back to look at you gazing at me with desire. "And if you want me to sleep in, babe... don't ask me to slow dance with you the night before, and then tell me you were awake for an hour watching me sleep..." I breathe, and claim your lips with mine.

_Granted, I have been awfully cute._

_But so have you. We’re soppier than two teenagers and I’m loving every minute of it._

_I wrap around you, kissing, cuddling, stroking... purring in your ear, making you giggle and giving you gooseflesh._

_“So, my brave strong Tiger... do you think you have recovered enough to be bent over and fucked hard?”_

 

 

My mouth opens at the thought, and it takes me a moment to recover my voice. "I am so tough and strong, babe - just the way you like it..." I purr. "You can bend me over, if you promise to fuck me _good and hard_..."

 

 

_How is it putting strain on your neck if you’re getting fucked? Juana didn’t know shit._

_I kiss you deeply, feel your cock pressing against me, demonstrating that you may have lost blood, but it’s not suffering any shortage._

_I move up, whisper in your ear “On your knees, Tiger,” and you sit upright on your knees. I hug you from behind, lick your neck, bite your earlobe... then push you forward, bending at the hips, until you’re on knees and elbows before me._

_Truly the most entrancing sight in the world... My Tiger, bent over in submission, waiting for my cock... fuck, and have my cock he shall._

_I grab the lube - we’re going through this at speed, good I bought a lavish supply - and prepare you for me, making you groan._

 

 

You haven't taken me from behind as much as you used to... it was always hot but now that I don't feel distance between us, it's even fucking hotter to submit to you. Your fingers are making me groan... Holy fuck, am I turned on right now... my cock is hard against my abdomen, and I'm already panting for you. Then I feel the head of your cock pressing into me hard and I close my eyes and suck in my breath.

_*Fuck*... Zeus entering Ganymedes had no fucking clue what delights were hidden from him right here in my bed. And he can piss off - I’m not giving up my Tiger, god or no god._

_Your back with the M on it, healing nicely - it’s a good thing your skin heals quickly, what with your job... and your lover._

_When I’m fully inside I scratch the wound open, along the left upright... relishing the way it makes your muscles contract, the sounds you make..._

 

 

You're inside me, and it's making my mind dissolve again... all there is is desire, pure sensation... and you. You're filling me, and the angle is different when you fuck me from behind - a different kind of intensity, all primal and animalistic. Especially when you're fucking _clawing_ my wound, as you love to do - sadistic little fucker... oh, you have me so hot now, I'm moaning and writhing as you move deeper inside me. "Oh fuck, you feel good, baby..." I groan.

 

 

_“You feel *fantastic*,” I growl, pulling back and pushing in again... dear Mother Nature, thank you for creating this fucking miracle on earth, this embodiment of pleasure, this man around my cock, who is *everything* to the man who believed in nothing..._

 

“Oh god... fuck me... own me... Jim...” I moan, and push back against you to take you deeper. It works, and I gasp at the intense stretch, the grinding pleasure...

 

 

_“I own you, my love... every delicious inch of you, every thought you have, everything you do... mine...”_

_I move back and forth slowly, scratch the other side of the M... I’m just a sucker for symmetry..._

 

 

You claw the other side of the M and I breathe in sharply. Your slow movements are driving me wild... I moan gutturally, and continue to writhe against you.

"Oh god... you do... I fucking _love_ being owned by you..." I groan. "Jim... please... fuck me hard, baby... fuck me hard..."

 

 

_Of course, my love... anything you want._

_I dig my fingers into your hips and start moving faster, harder... it’s heaven... you are heaven on earth and I’m your demon lost in paradise..._

_And I’m making paradise mine._

_I move your hips as I’m moving into you, hard, fast, blissful - your body moving at my instructions, your entire body a vessel for my pleasure - fuck Seb... “My love... my Sebastian... so fucking hot...”_

 

 

Oh my god, oh my god... I'm being driven hard, and it's fucking bestial, and it's fucking beautiful, oh god, _Jim_... I hear myself whimper and gasp as you pound into me. The way you move me, commanding my body... mastering my body... "Oh god, oh fuck, Jim..." I rant in total delirium. "You're so fucking hot, oh god, I _love_ how you _fuck me_... my dark angel ... oh, my fuck god... _YES_..."

_Fuck god, again, and yes I am, I am, I am a god, how else can I have subjected this demigod to my will..._

_I go hard, ride this high, ride my Tiger, mine mine mine, I groan and my nails dig into your hips, I think I should be nice and reach round but there’s no time for that, I’ll take care of you later, now I just want to be old-fashionedly selfish, take my pleasure from you, and you love it, so it’s fine..._

_I groan like an animal in heat, pounding you hard; your hand outstretched to the headboard pushing yourself against me, my Tiger, my love..._

_GOD this is the best orgasm ever.., it must be... surely nothing ever could have felt *so good*?_

 

 

The sound of our bodies slamming against each other so hard as you ram into me over and over and over... our animal grunting and groaning... the bed frame knocking against the wall, the legs scraping the floor... it's a fucking symphony to me... I feel your hand twisting in my hair and pulling my head back... oh fuck, yes... my mouth falls open and I moan. Oh, my hot, dominant little fucker ... _yes_...

_*Damn*, your sounds... god it’s hot –_

_and I come, come like I’ve never come before, surely; I know I think that every time, but how can such rapture be precedented?_

_I moan my ecstasy out into the world as I pour it into you, letting go of your hair - oh shit I was supposed to not put stress on your neck - you seem fine - I lean on you as I gasp my way from unfathomable delight into slightly more fathomable feeling, as my shudders slowly ease, and finally I let myself drop onto your back - spent - god, what a way to start the day..._

_“That was nice, we should do this more often...” I manage._

 

 

You come spectacularly long and hard, and collapse against me. I feel smugly satisfied that I inspire such desire and pleasure in you, and I revel in the feeling of your body resting against my back, damp with perspiration. "You mean fuck like animals? Oh, I _agree_..." I say, my voice thick with desire. I look back over my shoulder at you, hungrily. "Damn, baby - you've got mad skills in that department..."

 

 

_I fall onto the bed. “Wow. That was... wow. You’re wow. Tiger.”_

_I slowly move over - time for you to come... hmmm..._

_“Show me, Sebastian... show me how hot being fucked by me makes you... stroke that beautiful cock for me, Tiger...”_

 

I manage to keep from gaping at you; I only blink a couple of times before getting into a kneeling position on the bed. Fair's fair, you've done this for me twice now - and it was magnificent to behold. I have never been shy about my body or my sexuality - which has definitely been a good thing when it comes to being possessed by you - so if you ask me to show you how hot you make me feel, then that's what you're going to get, Kitten...

My cock is already erect when I take it in my hand. But the combination of being allowed to touch it after being forbidden from doing so, and your eyes, like deep obsidian pools, watching me... makes me harden even more.

 _Oh_... I had felt a sense of loss when you first denied me touching my cock... but if _this_ is how it feels when I'm given permission... _I am not missing out_...

I stroke it slowly... so slowly and firmly and rhythmically... sweeping lightly over the balls and the head... I see you look down from my face to my cock... observing... devouring with your eyes. An image of you stroking your own cock floats through my mind, and a low, purring sound reverberates in my throat. Your eyes return to mine, and I grin seductively and flick my tongue out over my lips. When your mouth slightly falls open, I feel like the cat who has swallowed the cream, and I hold your gaze as I stroke harder.

 

 

 _You look surprised - why? I’ve done it for you, why wouldn’t I ask it of you? But you recover quickly, sit in a position giving me a good view, and look so deep into my eyes as you start stroking... and fuck... that *_ _does*_ _look incredibly good... I lick my lips - I know I’ve just come, but this... is very, very, *very* hot._

_You start purring, your Tiger purr, and lick your lips, and if I hadn’t just had an amazing orgasm that’s momentarily making my limbs feel like they’re molten lead, I’d be on that mouth like an attacking snake. As it is, I realize my own mouth is opening and I’m panting slightly. Wow._

_I often have trouble getting over just how incredibly beautiful you are. I’m not sure if you realize - sure, you know you’re hot and can get any guy you want - but you really are a sight to behold, never more so than now, in the golden morning light, your muscles moving under your tanned skin, your mouth slightly open, your eyes half closed, hooded by your brows - and your hand, your strong muscular hand, that can be so hard and strong and so tender and precise, that hand, stroking the world’s most perfect cock... pleasuring yourself after I’ve fucked you... damn, this is the perfect morning..._

 

I'm so enjoying touching myself for you, but I also feel myself straying towards that line, the point of no return... after that epic fuck I so want to come, and come hard.

"You want to know how hot it gets me, being fucked by you?" I ask in a low voice, not breaking my rhythm. "Ohhh... Jim... you get my blood boiling, baby... when I get horny, I want to hold you down and fuck you senseless, fuck you in that sweet arse... but you know the one thing that gets me even hotter? _Anything you want_... oh god," I moan, my head moving back as I stroke faster. "If you want to thrash me, cover me with your marks... if you want me on my knees blowing you... if you want to make me bleed... fuck my arse, come inside me... it's all for you... just tell me what you want... or don't even tell me... just do it..." I moan, feeling my eyes fill with fire... "Oh _god_ , just do it to me... take your desires out on me, let me be the object of your lust... " my mouth opens and I let out a long breathy exhale as I get closer and closer. "Because you get me so fucking hot... just being around you - I'm in a perpetual state of horniness... you're so fucking hot... Jim..." I gasp, and my hand moves up and down, hard and fast. "Oh, baby - you're my fuck god - you _are_ sex to me, you're _all there fucking is_ \- oh fuck, _Jim_..." I let out a long strangled groan, as my body jerks and I'm thrusting hard and I spill out over my hand and the sheets, gasping. I fall back into a sitting position and rest my head against the headboard, breathing hard. I look at you as I catch my breath. "Mmm... that was... " I smirk at you and close my eyes. "Mmm..."

_I’m sitting here absolutely gobsmacked - that is... you are..._

_That has to be the hottest and - most amazing thing I’ve heard in - ever-_

_Hearing what you feel about our- sex life - I knew this, but hearing it, from you, hearing it confirmed, hearing how incredibly hot you are for me, for all I do - in those words..._

_I’m suddenly incredibly grateful for my eidetic memory, I’ll never lose this soliloquy - fuck Hamlet, these are the most beautiful words ever spoken. You and your insistence that you’re not a man of words. You’re the only man whose words I’ve ever genuinely wanted to hear, for their own sake, rather than as leverage to destroy him._

_You notice me sitting open-mouthed and turn to me, amused. “Liked the performance, baby?”_

_I can only pounce you, kiss you passionately, hug you hard, say how amazing you are, how much I love you, how stunning how special how lucky I am how I never... never ever... thought I’d have anything like this... what a miracle you are... an absolute miracle..._

 

 

I thought you'd enjoy my little show for you, but the look on your face... I don't think I've ever seen you look so _stunned_ (except when you told me you loved me and I punched you and left, but... that was _so_ last week... it may as well have been a century ago). Suddenly there's a Kitten pouncing on me, kissing me and rhapsodizing about how wonderful I am, and oh, I could get used to this...  
I wrap an arm around you, kissing you back and surreptitiously cleaning off my hand with a tissue. The sheets will have to wait. I toss the tissue in the wastebasket, and pull you into my lap. Our arms slide around each other, and we're kissing and gazing at each other. Your hands are pressed against my face, and mine are caressing your hair, pushing it off your forehead.

"Oh," I breathe. "I guess you'll be requesting an encore sometime..."

You give me a look like _Duh_ , and I laugh.

"I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit of an exhibitionist and it's possible I find it insanely hot when you're looking at me," I grin and kiss you. "God, Jim... the last few orgasms have been off the charts... stabbing and murders aside, it feels like we're finally in honeymoon mode. Maybe the stabbing and killing all those people actually _helped_... it's hard to be all introspective and brooding when you're shooting someone in the head..."

 

_“Well we needed the introspection - we really did,” I murmur against your cheek. “I’ve never seen you so - unburdened, so free, so - happy. And it fills my heart to breaking point to see that. I’ll happily let you kill all of Mexico if you want, but - I do think the introspection had *something* to do with it.”_

_I pull back, look at your face in the golden morning light._

_“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? You really are the most astonishingly beautiful man I’ve ever seen... no wonder I was smitten the moment I saw you... and then I met you and you just got better and better... brains and skill and humour and... just everything. You’re perfect, Tiger... absolutely perfect._

_Your words just now... that was just - hearing how you feel - I mean, I know there were times you were unhappy with things I did - don’t blame you, I was a dick - but hearing how much you enjoy what I do to you... man, that has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”_

_I shake my head at the memory. “And you say words are my thing... I’ve never met anyone whose words move me like yours.”_

_I nuzzle into your neck, your beard tickling my cheek. “There’s just this thing hiding your beauty... please shave it off today so I have an unobstructed view of your magnificent jawline...”_

 

 

"Did you just say... please??"

I pull back and look at you in astonishment.

"Every day since you got back, I was expecting you to bark at me to get rid of it... and then shove me into the bathroom with a straight razor... and tie me to a chair if you had to... _Please??_ "

I look at you, shaking my head. "The first few days I was going to outright refuse, you know... it felt representative of my own battle somehow... to choose my own life over grieving for you. And I thought, who were you to take that away from me? _And_ it felt symbolic of my freedom to choose to do something I _knew_ you wouldn't like. But then things got better between us, and I thought I would just fight you tooth and nail, and then give in eventually... but not before giving you a fucking hard time." I grin at you. "As only I can do and live to see another day. But then things got _amazing_ between us... and you know what, Jim? If you like my face better without it, then that's all I really care about. Consider it gone, babe..." I press my lips to yours. "I'll shave it off right now. What beard?"

 

_I’d kind of gathered that when I mentioned it before, the night of our orgy... and it didn’t seem worth bringing up again, not when we needed all our strength to fight our demons - the last thing I wanted was to fight you over a bit of facial hair._

_I had still expected a struggle - it’s a pleasant surprise to hear you’re happy to shave it off - and a significant testament to how good things are between us now..._

_“I brought your trimmer - I like a bit of fuzz on your face, but not a full forest. You’re too gorgeous to be hiding behind all that hair, pretty and ginger as it may be...” I stroke my hand through your beard._

_“What about you?” I ask, suddenly eager to do something back, “Do you have a preference about my facial hair? You’ve seen most possible permutations when I’ve done personas - what do you like best?”_

_If you say moustache I’m going to draw the line. But anything else - I’m happy to give it a go for you._

 

I smile at you. "You're gorgeous, whatever you do. I like you clean-shaven, and with stubble. Clean-shaven you look fey and otherworldly... it makes a scarier impression, even though you look younger. Facial hair makes you look less you're from another realm, and like it would be easier for me to get you into bed. Which obviously I like..." I touch your cheek with the back of my hand. "I love both, babe - they're both you."  
I run my hand through my beard. "Pretty and ginger, huh? Well, get ready to say goodbye. Last chance to change your mind..."  
You get up, go to the closet and return with my trimmer. I roll my eyes, kiss you and head to the washroom.

I stare at myself in the mirror, trimmer in hand. The man who grew this beard, who was determined to hold on to this unruly symbol of his resistance - I thought he'd survived, but it turns out he died sometime in the last week or so. I flip the switch and get to work.

By the time I'm done, I have only a little stubble left - but I feel like I've shed an entire layer of skin like a snake. I lean forward and marvel at how much things can change in such a short period of time... and then I open the door to show my husband.

 

 

_I hear the sound of the trimmer in the bathroom, and smile at it - no argument, no me ordering you, no slammed doors or power games - I just asked nicely and you nicely said OK. Who’d have thought a relationship could work like that._

_When you come out, smiling, I’m –_

_shocked –_

_I look at you wide-eyed. To my dismay, tears spring into them._

_It’s him._

_It’s you from before I left._

_It’s the man I drove to despair over and over. The man I wouldn’t acknowledge I loved. The man I left behind without a second thought. The man who I drove to the edge, and over, again and again and again..._

_A thousand memories spring into my mind, unbidden, and *of course*, because my own mind bloody hates me, each one of them is worse than the other._

_You look at me, startled, and your eyes - in that face - the shocked eyes - like so often –_

_“Sebastian...” I manage to choke out of my strangled throat._

 

 

Why- do you look horrified??

Did I fuck something up?? No...

You're choking out my name as I move towards you.

"Jim...? What's going on?" I demand. "What's wrong?"

Every moment you look at me you seem more tormented and...

Guilty.

Oh no...

 

 

_“I’m... you ... I’m sorry Sebastian... you just... look like old you... I didn’t realize - I mean of course I knew you were you, but - you looked different - and now - god I’m sorry...”_

_*Not today!!!* We were going to have a fucking quiet day! You ruined it once already Moriarty and you will. *not*. ruin today._

_With immense effort, I push down the worst of my guilt, clasping my arms around you, tears rolling down my face._

_“I love you... I love you... I’m so sorry... I’ve always loved you, I really have... I’m so sorry...”_

 

 

"It's - ok, Jim... I freaked out when I saw the old you, too. When you wanted me to beat you..." I swallow hard. "And then - I dreamed of him, remember?"

My heart is pounding in my chest, and I don't know why. I force myself to move, to put my arms around you.

But I feel... frozen.

 

 

_You’re - not hugging me back - why not? Your heart is beating so hard - I pull back and look at you. Your eyes-_

_“Seb - what’s wrong?”_

 

 

"I don't know..." I look at you, confused. "You looked like you were about to have a massive meltdown. And I started to panic..."

 

 

_“I’m - not. This is something we will have to deal with at some point, and I don’t look forward to it, but for now I can... keep it down.”_

_I frown._

_“I’m sorry my meltdowns have been inconveniencing you. It’s not like I have a lot of choice in the matter. We don’t all have a blissfully simple mind.”_

_What the fuck Moriarty?!_

 

 

“A blissfully- _what?_ " I stare at you, aghast. "Make that what the _fuck?_ What is the _matter_ with you?"

 

 

_Oh come on Jim - that was completely uncalled for. Apologize this instant._

_No. I’m upset._

_You’re upset at yourself, you stupid psychopath - don’t take it out on Seb-_

_Shut up._

_“Ever since we got here you’ve been trying to avoid talking - I practically had to force you. I *know* you don’t like dealing with stuff like this, but it’s fucking there! And it’s not making it any easier for me to deal with when my only support makes it clear on every occasion that he’d rather be doing anything else than be here dealing with our fucking issues! I’m sorry I can’t just go ‘Oh we’re together now and we’re happy and all is well, tralala, now let’s fuck’ - I don’t work that way! And I’ve got shit-tons of guilt here *already* and it doesn’t fucking help if every time I seem to even *think* about dealing with stuff my fucking husband clams up!_

_Yes, I’m a fucking snowflake who has to fucking *process* his *feelings* - sorry I’m not a big bad soldier who can just ignore them! I *could* ignore them very well before, but you didn’t like that much either, did you?!”_

_I’m shouting at you and part of me is desperately telling me to shut up, that there is no reason to this, but I’ve never been very good at listening to reason - let alone while I’m angry._

 

 

I gape at you. Where the fuck did all this come from? Well... besides a lifetime of psychopathy, not feeling emotions and massive wounds that you’re still reeling from...

Be the bigger man and just-

FUCK YOU, you little shit. I’m NOT being the bigger man ANYMORE.

“I don’t even know where to start with you.” I say coldly. “I don’t even know _where_ to begin... I didn’t want to talk about my bloody feelings five seconds after we got married and _you insisted_... look how well _that_ turned out...” I say in a vicious tone. “And then fucking _days_ of processing our feelings on our honeymoon. Everything’s gotta be on your fucking timeline, doesn’t it - well don’t blame me for being exhausted by the whole thing!! You’re _fucking exhausting_!!!” I look at your shocked, angry face. I’m sick to death of walking on eggshells... “Is _that_ something we need to process too now?? Add it to your fucking list!!”

 

 

_You fucking-_

_“Oh I’m feckin exhaustin am I?! Well I’m *so sorry* I am! If it’s any consolation - it’s feckin exhaustin ta me too! Because I’m feckin livin it every feckin second - but if I try to share with my *feckin* husban Sir is too tired!_

_*Fuck* my timeline - if we’d wait until you were in the mood we’d be feckin eighty before we had a proper talk!_

_But sure - I’ll get meself a proper terapist an not bodder ye any more. Because it’s apparently too much feckin *hassle*.”_

 

 

I blink at you slowly. “Wow. That’s hot, Jim. Why don’t you ever use your real accent? I like it,” I say in a lazy tone.

 

 

_I stare at you - my mouth open –_

_you did *not* -_

_you did not just –_

_They call it a red mist. They’re wrong. It’s not a mist. Everything becomes very clear, very sharp._

_Your gun is lying on the bedside table. I’m not going to kill you. Just punish you._

_I grab for the gun._

 

 

Instincts are a beautiful thing. I deflect your arm, and throw you back against the bed. I snatch the gun and jump up. “What the fuck were you going to do with this??” I demand, glowering.

 

 

_I kick at your legs, but you’re in full SAS mode and step aside easily. I’m fast but I’m not a par on you, and you have a gun - but you’re not going to use it, because you’re less insane than me. Madly frustrated I throw myself at you with a howl, launch myself full tilt without aim or design, fingers out to claw, mouth open to bite._

 

Jesus... I get you into a hold before you can do any damage. “Ok, ok!” I yell. “Enough!! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I was just- triggered by how you were acting. Can we stop this now and talk calmly? Jim...?” I say in a firm but soothing voice.

 

 

_I struggle against your hold - how fucking dare you - I try to kick, scratch, bite, but you hold me tight and I can’t do anything and it’s so frustrating I scream..._

_And the screaming turns into sobs..._

_And I’m crying... crying my heart out..._

_And you let me go, and I cry and sob disconsolately..._

 

 

“Oh, Jim... oh, no... oh fuck, baby - I’m so sorry!!” I say, horrified. I gather you in my arms and kiss you mournfully. “I’m such a beast, I don’t know why I said those awful things... I’m so sorry...” I croon, rocking you slowly.

 

_“No... I...” I hiccup, and cry some more. I seem not able to speak and it’s a relief to realize that and not try, just to cry, but you are getting more upset the more I cry, and I need to explain it’s not your fault._

_“Not.., hue...” I manage, but apparently that’s not clear enough, because you keep saying how sorry you are._

_I swallow, you give me some water, I drink it, manage to get my sobs under control a bit._

_“I... grabbed a gun... a fucking gun... I’m insane... I’m a fucking beast...”_

_And my sobs overwhelm me again. How *could* I?! How can anyone live in my vicinity? I’m a powder keg providing its own sparks... ready to blow your face off at the drop of a hat..._

 

 

"Well, what were you going to do?" I soothe. "Were you really going to shoot me?"

 

 

_“Yes...” I respond, my voice tiny, condemning myself._

_I’m the scum of the earth - would shoot my husband for making fun of my accent._

_“I wasn’t going to kill you - but I was going to shoot... just because you made me mad... I get mad so easily... how am I ever going to not hurt you? How long before I get a lucky shot? How am I going to not kill you?!”_

 

 

"Well. Fuck..." I say mildly. "That should probably freak me out more, shouldn't it. What does that tell you?" I take your face in my hands and you try to pull away. " _No_ \- you were just about to shoot me, you little shit - you can sit there and fucking listen. Could it be that I intimately understand the temperament of a psychopath? And I know what you're going to say - I wouldn't shoot _you_. You're probably right." I hold up a finger and tap twice in between your eyes, making you wince. " _Probably_. But don't test me. You shouldn't push an upset psychopath without being ready to face some serious consequences... isn't that right, Jim? And I fucking _did_... Because it turns out I was sick to death of being sweet and loving and well-behaved all the time..." I snap, surprising myself. "Sometimes I want to act out... Say terrible, hurtful things... and unleash some of those dark, violent urges... don't you think I have the occasional impulse to just haul back and punch you? No, don't tell me to do it..." I growl. "The moment has to be right for _me_. And sometimes... I get sick of being told what to fucking do."

 

_I cry even harder at that. “You have every right to be sick of being nice, and to be hurtful, and punch me... but... what has kept us alive so far is you being the responsible adult - you always managed me - you’re a fucking babysitter for a criminal psychopath..._

_You saw when I got dangerous, to you, to myself... and you managed it, let me blow off steam before I exploded, deflected my attention, soothed me... whatever was needed, you *knew*, and you did it._

_I had no reason to ask or expect that, but you did._

_And that was *before* I had feelings. It’s even worse now. Before I’d just be eating myself, or shoot a random stranger, or torture you just a bit too much - now I actually completely lost my mind._

_Now - if you’re sick of babysitting - and I don’t blame you - how are we going to survive? What if next time I *do* want to kill you? How are we going to survive when I’m one poorly timed comment away from mariticide?”_

_I’m sinking into a black hole of despair – there’s no way… I’m impossible to live with. I’m a ticking fucking time bomb._

 

 

"I'm not a fucking babysitter, and you managed me too... I would have ended up dead a long time ago if it weren't for you. And I didn't say I was sick of managing you, I just had a bad moment..."

I start to pace. "Look at where we were in London - in a standoff with guns, beating each other, me holding broken glass against my throat... that was a little more than a week ago, and we've been under extreme emotional duress ever since. Look at who we were and what our relationship was before that! We felt better after killing people yesterday! And the day before! We can be sweet and lovely and affectionate to each other all we like, but the fact remains we're both fucked up, violent killers, and maybe it's not the kind of thing you shut on and off when going from one moment to another. How are we going to survive? The same way we've survived the rest of our violent fucked up lives... moment to moment. Day to day. I was in the hospital with a stab wound a couple of days ago... and yesterday we were giggling over Game of Thrones and slow dancing. And today? Epic sex, an epic fight, and apparently you wanted to shoot me, you little arsehole. But do I want out? _FUCK, NO_. My eyes are open when it comes to you, Jim. They always have been." I stalk back towards you and grasp your face in my hand. "I don't believe you would kill me. If I'm wrong, I'd still make the same choice because you're what I love above all things - insanity, violence and all. I love you, you mental little fucker. I always will."

 

_I’m shivering when you pace - I want you to keep holding me - but your words are - true, and wise, and soothing to my raw soul._

_You’re right, as usual, my sweet Tiger. There is no safety for us - there never has been, but I never really cared; and now I do. I want to keep you safe whatever the circumstances, and I can’t. It’s impossible, even if we were normal people - people die every day, it’s what people do. I can try my best to keep us safe, but my best isn’t great, I have to admit. However - I can work on it._

_But - there’s also the simple fact that I’m a volatile psychopath and you’re an adrenaline addict. I could get us a nice retirement home in a ridiculously safe country - Sweden or something - and go on pills that make me less likely to randomly shoot you - and we’d be at each other’s throats in two days. We are not men to live a quiet life - look at how badly we managed trying to have one quiet fucking day here..._

_I sigh as you hold my face in your hands, close my eyes._

_“I love you too, you mental big fucker. You’re absolutely right, as usual. I’ll try not to kill you, you try not to kill me, and we’ll both try to keep others from killing us. That’s all we can do. We’re dangerous men, we live dangerous lives - but it is what it is. I’m still extremely sorry, but... yeah, I’ll add it to the feckin list.”_

 

"Thank you for the apology, and I'm sorry too." I pull you against me, and rest my head on yours. "Especially about the accent. I wasn't making fun, I promise you- I _love_ it. I just knew it would get under your skin. I was being a total shit..."

 

_“You were. But then so was I. I don’t know... I think it might be best to walk away when we’re like this, but then the thing I fear most is you walking away and I would have freaked out even more - yeah, no, on second thought, don’t walk away. You don’t know if I wouldn’t shoot you in the back._

_Fuck... *one* quiet day, Moriartys... theoretically, it must be possible... practically, I think we might need to order a pound of Valium or something.”_

_I stretch, kiss you. “And it started so wonderful... with you saying the most beautiful things... let’s have breakfast and ignore the past half hour?”_

 

 

"I think we should eat something, yeah. Maybe go in the water - don't worry, not past my neck. But as for ignoring the last half hour, I dunno... there was shit you wanted to talk about it, and I reacted, and then you _really_ reacted, and... I don't know. Maybe we _should_ talk..." I hear myself say with surprise. "Yeah. I think I have some shit to get into. You?"

 

 

_I look at you flabbergasted for the second time today._

_“You - you actually want to - talk?! What the fuck happened to being exhausted by the whole thing?!”_

 

 

"Well, that was when I was still feeling the afterglow after our epic fuck. Of course I didn't want to talk then. But now we're already talking. And everything feels less daunting after you take a fucking gun away from your partner. You should try it sometime..." I smirk at you. You really can be a shit, Sebastian...

 

 

_“Fuck off, Moriarty. Hm, has less of a ring to it..._

_I’m really not ready to dive into my quagmires of guilt without a few litres of coffee... and I guess I should eat something too. *And* deal with your neck. And have a swim. And then we’ll address... anything you want._

_I love you, Tiger... always. Even when I’m trying to shoot you. I wasn’t going to kill you. So - that’s a start I suppose...”_

 

 

"You're a real corker. Thanks." I smack the back of your head. "I love you and I'm not going to kill you either." I press my lips to your forehead for a long moment. “Litres of coffee sounds fucking amazing..."

Is it weird that I take these things in stride? Probably.

'My husband just tried to shoot me - oh well, we're both crazy. Time for coffee.'

Yup. You're right, I'm a total adrenaline junkie.

I grab you by the hand and pull you towards the door. "Onward and upward, babe. Kitchen. Breakfast. Coffee. Quiet fucking day, take two."

 

 

_“Oi. You don’t get to smack me. I smack you. I’m pretty sure that was in the wedding contract.”_

_I get up, stretch. “Does it still count as a quiet day if we had a fight and I tried to shoot you? And I thought you wanted to talk later? Doesn’t bode well for quiet... but sure, we should be able to assemble one quiet day from all the peaceful bits and pieces we enjoy here and there.”_

_We head downstairs and have a reasonably quiet breakfast - both a bit wary of emotional explosions. I’m not sure how I’m feeling - not that strange, considering I have only been feeling for a week or so._

_I’m feeling the need to be close to you, though... my love, my Tiger... I sit next to you as we eat, making sure we’re touching at all times._

 

 

In the kitchen, things feel ok but fragile - which makes sense under the circumstances. This morning was a bit fucked up, even for us. When breakfast is done, I stand up and extend my hand to you. You take it cautiously, and I pull you into a hug.

"Let's go outside. Being by the water has helped everything we've faced that has felt broken or fucked up beyond repair. Remember all the horrible moments that came before this? We got through them - together. I love you more than I can possibly express to you, even when you're being a shit. And I'm pretty sure there was a loophole in the wedding contract that allows me to smack you when you're being a shit. Or there _should_ be, and I'll have to ask for an amendment. I'll be right back." I return to the bedroom, grab the gun and walk back to where you're waiting for me by the sliding doors. Your eyes swing to my hand, and you look at me.  
"Relax, it's not payback. I just don't want to be without a weapon nearby after yesterday. C'mon - the beach awaits."

 

_“No, makes perfect sense - you should really have brought it down to breakfast. You used to never be without... but I can understand._

_Let me do your neck first...”_

_I remove the bandage, relieved to see that it’s healing well. I don’t really fancy going to explain to the hospital that we’ve lost our nurse and could they please give us another._

_We walk onto the beach hand in hand. I find to my dismay that *I* am not too eager to talk. I’m still feeling quite raw and just want to bury myself in the sand and hibernate or something._

 

 

I observe you without trying to be too obvious. Hmm. Quiet Jim... you still seem fragile, so I'm not going to push talking until you can handle it.

You head towards a shot-up beach chair, and I shake my head.

"Nope. Not yet. Water."

You shrug and make a sound of assent, and I squeeze your hand as I lead us to the shore. I deposit the gun in the space between two boulders, and cover it with a smaller rock. "Now if you want us to work through this... let it go. As much as you can - leave it in the water. Then whatever's left is all we have to have to deal with - when the time is right. Can you do that, babe?" I take your hand again and pull you towards me.

 

 

_“I hope so...” I murmur, and follow you into the sea. This poor body of water has had some massive shit dumped into it these past days; I’m surprised Greenpeace haven’t sent a ship over yet._

_But as always, the water is soothing... it does feel cleansing in a way that a shower just can’t pull off. You hold my hand and walk with me until we’re submerged to our chests, and we wash each other, and we cuddle, and we kiss, and I ignore the tears that I taste on my lips - I think they’re mine - because this is apparently what a Moriarty honeymoon is like - water, tears, guns, murder, sex. Not so different from normal Moriarty times, just wetter._

 

 

I feel like I'm carrying a lot, trying to keep you from spiralling. I wish I could submerge myself so _I_ can let this experience go, but I don't think you'll consider seawater to be hygienic enough.

Instead I reach down under your bottom and hoist you up - your legs automatically go around my waist, and your arms around my shoulders.

"What am I going to do with you?" I sigh, looking at you with tender exasperation. "Drown you? Take you out for boat ride and look for sharks? How long do you think I'd last without you, you ridiculous pain in my arse... you adorable little shit... you psychopathic love of my life... I never want to find out... ever, ever..." Tears spring to my eyes. "Oh..." I say softly. "Look, babe - I made it past breakfast..." Then I'm laughing and crying as I press against you, covering your face and neck with kisses. "Don't you get it yet, babe? Whatever mean, crazy things you'll do, I _don't care_... because I'll do them too, I _know_ I will... I only care that we're together. Alive and well and... let's just aim for mostly well and in one piece, yeah?" I press my teary face against yours and close my eyes, feeling the water swirl around us and the sun shine down on us. I sigh, and a feeling of peace comes over me.

 

 

_You are crying and that makes me cry and good grief, when will we ever stop? Is this the consequence of a lifetime spent not crying? Does it catch up with you when you start again?_

_I bury my face into the good side of your neck and kiss you softly._

_“I don’t know how to keep us safe, my love... and it frightens me. I never used to care... but now I have someone to care about and I want nothing to ever happen to you. But it’s impossible... and I realize that, but it’s so fucking hard on me to not have complete control over everything..._

_And it was *really* frightening to see I didn’t even have control over myself._

_I’m just feeling so lost in a sea of... feelings, and frightening things I don’t know and can’t control, and it’s so different from how the world used to be - it used to all be nice and clear and compartmentalized and... it’s all a mess now.”_

 

 

"It's definitely a mess," I agree, kissing your neck. "A stupid, terrible mess. And I'm sorry I made things so messy for you, babe..." I kiss the spot by your ear. "If I hadn't been so bloody insistent on love... we could have had a nice clearly delineated non-relationship like we used to. We were _so_ much better off then..." I kiss your earlobe, making you squirm. "I know, I know - fuck _off_ , Moriarty. No, I think it has a _great_ ring, babe... I like it!" I grin at you trying to maintain your glare. "Had enough of the water? You want to sit on the beach? We don't have to talk if you don't feel ready. We can read or watch more Game of Thrones or get drunk or get tattoos or do whatever the fuck we want. As long as I'm with you, that's all I care about."

 

_“I’m not saying I want to get back to how things were! I am just - confused, and - not in control, and I don’t know how to deal with that._

_I’ll never give this up again - it’s bloody hard, this love lark, but it’s... fucking amazing. I think it’s you though. If I see other people - they do stupid things when they’re in love; but I can’t imagine normal people feel stuff as intensely and violently as we do. No one would be able to function._

_No, you’re special, Tiger...”_

_You carry us out of the water and onto the beach where clean towels have magically appeared on the chairs since yesterday. I am going to assume our cleaning staff actually are faeries - I have not seen them yet and only barely heard them. I will have to make sure they get paid well..._

_I lie down on the beach chair, suddenly quite tired. It might have been the meltdown - good grief, I was like a toddler having a tantrum..._

_I do want to talk about stuff - but maybe a small nap first... it’s nice here in the shade of the umbrella, with barely a breeze rustling the palm leaves... I’ll ask you if you mind... in a moment..._

 

 

I feel so relieved when I see you close your eyes... and even more so when I see your breathing change. You need this downtime to recharge your batteries and hopefully clear the slate, as it were. I know it will take time to process and heal this wound (like we didn't have enough!!) and maybe it won't ever be fully resolved due to its royal fucked-up-ness. Your nap also means _I_ can process it without worrying about _you_ and _your moods_. I meant every goddamn word I said, but _of course_ it can be exhausting to focus on somebody else's emotions so much... _of course_ I don't want to fucking get shot (seriously, Jim??) And it even makes me question things, a _little_ (Can I really handle this? Is our relationship really worth dealing with our compounded madness?) but the answer is always _love_ and _Jim_ and _YES_...  
I still appreciate downtime to myself, though. I sneak down to the beach to get my gun, and walk back to where you're sleeping. I give myself the satisfaction of twirling it like a goddamn gunslinger... pointing it at you... pretending to shoot you (only in your shoulder! OK, now the other shoulder... aaand the foot, too)... blowing pretend smoke from the gun... and tipping my non-existent cowboy hat to your pretend-bleeding body. Feeling smug, I head to the villa.

Yeah - picture of perfect mental health. When you admitted you wanted to shoot me, the first thing that popped into my mind was worry about how well you'd handle it once I got the gun away from you ...and shot you back. Maybe I should tell you that - it might help your guilt.

I grab the iPad and headphones from the living room, a beer for me and a fizzy raspberry lemonade for you for when you wake up. Then I return to the beach chairs, settle in to watch another show I downloaded - Black Sails.

Soon I'm imagining life on board a pirate ship and what kind of swashbuckling adventures we'd have.

And then I'm resting my eyes and thinking of nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> Shoot Love - Maroon 5  
> In Power We Entrust the Love Advocated - Dead Can Dance  
> Oh Jim - Lou Reed  
> Tainted Love - Marilyn Manson  
> Adrenaline - The Gathering


	2. Tiger Continues to Love and Not Kill Kitten

_I wake up slightly chilly - it’s not cold, but I always need a lot of blankets when I sleep._

_You’re sitting beside me, gun and iPad on your lap, fast asleep._

_Gun._

_Oh fuck._

_I actually grabbed a gun to shoot you._

_Because you made fun of me while I was angry._

_Granted, that is a suicidal action - but you’re my *husband*. We’re going to have fights. We even had fights before, and I never actually went so far as to *shoot* you. I pointed guns at you, sure - but always in control, as a threat, or even, once or twice, to spice things up in bed - I never lost my head in a blind rage so much -_

_Or didn’t I?_

_Fuck my perfect memory. Fuck it to hell and let it stay there. Crystal-clear images are helpfully provided._

_You looking at me, blood streaming down your face, turning up a split lip - ‘Are you done, Boss?’_

_The sickening crack of a rib as I punch in a blind rage._

_Your face - blue - as I pull away in shock after a frenzied and sustained attack._

 

_OK. OK!!!_

_I wasn’t in control. I just never used a gun before. Great, well done Moriarty, ten points to Slytherin._

_So, you’re a homicidal maniac. Nothing new there. The only difference is that now you actually care, consciously, and feel guilty, consciously._

_And constantly._

_So - you’ve never killed him *before*. (Well done. Gold star.) Because you *did* pull back when you got too close... (Way too late though. *Way* too late...) So... are the frenzies stronger now? Because you have other feelings as well as anger and hatred?_

_... I don’t know. It *felt* strong, but I’m not exactly an expert in my own feelings, am I..._

_No, I do *not* want rid of all this. I don’t. I love love. I couldn’t look at you and just feel nothing. But my poor Tiger... of all the sadistic criminal psychopaths in the world, why did you have to fall in love with me... Stupid boy... god I love you..._

_I snuggle closer to leach some of your body warmth, and feel you stir._

 

 

Cool skin, a body on mine... I slowly feel myself returning to consciousness... Kitten... needs warming up...

I slide my arms around you, drawing you closer. I breathe in your scent.

"Kitten..." I mumble drowsily, eyes still closed. "I dreamed we were pirates... we were a lot younger and you were so _pretty_..." I open my eyes and see your face. "Oh hey, Boss... you’re still so pretty, aren't you... How’d you sleep?"

_“I’m always pretty... pirates? We’d have been great pirates... shall we become pirates?” I snuggle closer - you’re a furnace like always; I try to get every bit of my body plastered against you._

_“You really should have left when you had the chance... no way I’m going to let you go now...”_

_I turn over to warm my back._

_“So... if you want to talk... we can...”_

 

 

"Left? Oh, when you first came back? Hmm. If I was someone who ever had a lick of sense in his life, sure - but I have a devastating weakness for criminal masterminds and pirate captains... especially pretty ones who fuck like demons." I feel a spark pass through us even though we're not even looking at each other. And then my body responds to you lying against me - as I feel myself starting to harden, I laugh.

"Talk. Yes. We really should...” I pause, moving my hands along your arms. "It doesn't have to be _right_ now...” I murmur, and then pause again. “I don’t know, I’m not used to being the one to table discussions! Shouldn’t we?”

_“I don’t know! Normally it’s me bringing it up and you trying to get out of it by suggesting sex. And it looks like little Seb is perfectly happy to continue that tradition,” I nod down._

_“I leave it up to you, Tiger. You choose.”_

 

 

I snort. “You’re leaving it up to me to decide between talking and sex... when I’m already halfway there? Why does it feel like _you’re_ avoiding talking? Well, we had one of the best fucks ever, and we still had a massive fight where I almost got shot. So I don’t know, makes me think there’s still shit to work out, and sex isn’t going to solve anything. So I think that means it’s more important to talk.” I pause.

“Hmm. I think I just grew as a person. Don’t faint from shock, I’ll try not to make a habit of it...”

 

 

_I’m - for the third time today? - speechless._

_“Right. OK. It’s fine, of course I’ll help you get back to your home planet. And can I have my husband back then please?”_

 

 

I laugh wryly. "I guess the last week rubbed off on me. Trust me, I am _not_ thrilled about it."

I sigh and rest my chin on your hair. "I interrupted you this morning - you were upset when you saw my face. I'm guessing it triggered a memory, or guilt? And I was feeling really really good, and I didn't want to go there so I shut down. It wasn't intentional, but I still did it. I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it now?"

 

 

_I moan. “Yes, I know I need to and it’s plaguing me and I need to deal with the guilt but... there’s *so much* of it and it’s *so* painful... you said when we started you’d rather be shot, well, I feel that way now._

_But I know I should... oh, *fuck*._

_It’s all my own fault, I know, but that only makes it worse..._

_I’m sorry Tiger... can you start?”_

 

 

"OK..." I stop and think about where to start. Suddenly I'm blanking out and I can't remember what I wanted to talk about. Oh, fucking perfect. There go my growing as a person points - it doesn't count to say we should talk if I don't actually, you know... talk.

"I'm totally spacing..." I admit. "I know there was something. But it's probably easier to just start with what happened. So - I kind of expressed this already, but - I need to be able to have a bad moment or a bad day. I don't want to be ordered to shove my feelings in a closet, and I don't want to have to self-monitor every second of the day. Because then there's such a build-up that... you saw what happened. What I said was shitty and uncalled for, but... look, I'm not fucking too used to any of this either! I feel like I've been so tightly controlled my whole life, including by myself, that I don't know how to fight fairly. So as soon as the gloves are off, they're _off_ , and I just - go for the throat. And I have no idea what the answer is! Part of me enjoys it, to be honest! You're not the only psycho in the room, remember? So now what? Do I need to clear the room of all weapons before I snap at you? I'm not trying to be an arsehole, I'm just trying to navigate this and it's kinda fucked up..." I heave a sigh. "I need to hear what you think about all this..."

_“It’s clear that it’s a big thing for you... you’re already getting angry and we’re just talking about it._

_And it’s not the first time... And I completely understand - I’d have killed me ages ago. You have the patience of a saint and yeah, it’s not fair that you’d have to walk on eggshells all the time._

_But, dysfunctional as it was, that kind of kept us alive - mostly. I still lost it occasionally, but most of the time you managed to cool me down before I exploded._

_I agree we can’t get back to that - it was horrible and unfair and just... wrong. But. That leads us to the situation where we have a high-pressure steam locomotive whose safety valve just said he’s had enough. So we need to *somehow* - not let the pressure build that high? Get another safety valve? I have no clue - I tell myself to just not be an idiot and not to get so angry, but - I can’t control it, I’m afraid._

_Maybe I should go to anger management classes or something... or get a fucking therapist like Tony Soprano...”_

 

 

"I'm not angry... I'm _frustrated_ ," I say, keeping my voice calm. "And most of the time it doesn't feel like an issue. I haven't 'had enough' in the sense that I want to be able to yell at you every day, or say mean horrible things whenever I want... but I want to be able to fight like a normal couple! Except we're _not_ normal, so how can we fight and blow off steam without one of us getting hurt, or starting world war fucking three? I didn't think it was an issue, but apparently it is... so what do we do now? I can't picture you in anger management classes or in gangster therapy... can you??"

 

 

_I can’t help but snigger at that. “‘I threw a plate at my wife’, ‘I slapped my toddler’, ‘I shot my husband the day after he killed three men for me; and I killed a nurse for him’. Yeah, I doubt it... but - I don’t know what else to do, Tiger! I *want* us to be able to fight like a normal couple, but for both you and me, all our adult lives, when we’ve fought anyone it’s been to kill. How do you switch that off? How do you dial down ‘must eliminate the enemy’ to ‘must shout at the enemy and say mildly unpleasant things?’”_

"I don't know! We fought and yelled a lot in London before we came here... some of that was OK, you didn't mind me yelling at you then..."

 

 

_“Well - it was different. Your yelling didn’t *hurt* back then. It was - I was James Moriarty, no one ever got to me, not even you - *especially* not you. I couldn’t let that happen. So if you were angry and yelling - it kind of made all my defences come up so I was so far removed from whatever you were saying that it didn’t penetrate. Even if I got angry back, it would be - surface anger, not deep anger. There would be no real feeling in it. But now I *care* about what you say and think, and if you say something that makes me angry - it hits me right in the stomach and... well, you saw. I go ballistic.”_

"No, I meant - the two days in London after you came back. I remember yelling at you a lot. But nothing terrible happened except - well, the broken glass incident. But we got through that... why is yelling now different than then?"

 

 

_“It’s not the yelling - you can yell all you like. It’s what you say. When you were yelling in London - you were angry, and I found that entirely reasonable. Whereas earlier - you were aiming to hurt, and you struck true. It did hurt. A lot. And that just - set me ablaze.”_

 

 

"Oh..." realization dawns on me. "That makes sense. Although in London I was yelling in reaction to decisions you were making for both of us that I didn't agree with... but I recognized you had the best intentions. This morning, _you_ said something hurtful to me and then it felt like you were attacking me... so that made me angry and I blew up."

 

 

_“Yes... sorry about that. I felt that *you* were attacking *me* when it seemed you were freaking out because I wanted to talk again... but I think it was mostly that I was angry at myself. I felt so guilty when I saw old you..._

_So, I already was very antsy, lashed out for no good reason, that made you angry, lash back, which hit home, which made me want to shoot you._

_So which link in this chain of events is easiest to break?”_

 

 

"Uh... god, I wish I knew!" I look at you helplessly. "It's so much simpler and safer when I automatically do what's best for you. Is that the only answer?"

 

 

_“No! I don’t want that - it’s not fair on you. I wish *I* could do it, that I could take that role for a bit - it seems only just - but..._

_It’s so frustrating that I can’t just - *do* that! I’m supposed to be a bloody genius! And I can’t even be trusted in a room with a gun! I’m a fucking toddler sometimes!”_

_I shake my head in frustration._

_“All I can hope is - when I get used to feelings, I’ll be less volatile. We’ve been defusing quite a few powder kegs in the past few days. Hopefully when we get through the next ones, we’ll be more... equanimous?_

_I know the guilt over our earlier relationship is a big thing with me at the moment, and that was right there at the start of it this morning...”_

 

 

I sigh heavily. "Oh god, Jim... I finally understand why I was panicking this morning...

I knew - I _knew_ you were feeling guilty about the past the second I saw your reaction.

And I knew you'd want to go there...

the problem is –

the problem is-"

I drop my head in my hands for a long moment, then look up at you wild-eyed.

"I don't know how to do this! You want to dive into your feelings about the past, that means _I_ have to dive in, too! And I'm afraid of what's down there... it's one thing to face my past when it's about... losing someone I cared about and... my beast of a father. But dealing with the past with you?? I'm afraid I- no, I'm terrified! I feel like there's seething resentment and anger down there that I never dealt with, because I _couldn't_. Because I didn't deserve to be happy or loved! I needed to be punished! But I still felt angry about having been mistreated, of course I did! But how can I go into those feelings if you're feeling guilty and crying and falling apart?? How can I hold space for you like I did before if... I haven't let it go yet? It feels like I'll either be there for you, and not deal with my feelings... or deal with my feelings and not be there for you. How can I do both, Jim??" I look at you bewildered, and tears spring to my eyes.

 

 

_Fuck - how am *I* supposed to know?!_

_“Well - we may be able to do what we did before. When one of us has been dealing with stuff, the other has been there for him. So - maybe we could try that - you deal with your feelings about our past, and I - add it to the spreadsheet, don’t emotionally interact. And then you do the same for me, rinse, repeat?_

_I have *no idea* if it’s going to work - maybe we should keep the weapons out of reach while we try...”_

 

 

I laugh helplessly. "I guess? A gangster therapist would really come in handy right now. 'All right gentlemen, deposit your weapons in the basket, and now we'll go into the treatment room and whoever is holding the talking stick expresses themselves... then the other person takes the talking stick and mirrors back to them, "I hear that you felt sad when A, B, C happened and I apologize"’... but only a counsellor for criminals would be able to handle A, B, and C..." I stare off at the sea. "Yeah, sure - let's try it and hope for the best. But who should go first? Do we flip for it??"

 

 

_“Just - don’t give angry gangsters a stick. ‘No Jim, the talking stick is to indicate whose turn it is to talk, not to use as an instrument of torture. Now please remove it from my rectum.’”_

_I look at the palm tree, still reasonably padded - some towels have come off, but it’ll do._

_“You start. I’m still quite subdued from this morning so hopefully less likely to blow up.”_

_It will also make the guilt stronger but that’s of secondary concern._

_“Ground rules?_

_I suggest - if one of us has had enough we can say that we want it to stop, continue another time. So we won’t be silencing anyone, just - pausing._

_No running off the premises. I think we learnt our lesson._

_You have any ideas?”_

 

 

"Yeah, maybe psychopaths need pretty specific rules for this kind of thing, but I don't know what all the rules should be. Maybe we'll need to add rules as we realize what we need. But overall, our relationship could be like our guiding principle. We can try to check in with ourselves 'Does this help or hurt our relationship' - to keep ourselves from getting mean and hitting below the belt... or picking up guns when we're mad. This morning I didn't measure my actions against the priority of our relationship at all, and neither did you. But I know it can be hard in the moment when you're feeling a strong emotion. Anyway - all we can do is try."

I look at the palm tree and shake my head. "You really want me to go first? Are you sure you can take this right now?"

 

 

_“Of course not. But I can’t take this ever. Hearing how badly I treated the love of my life? Hearing how much I hurt him? How he hated it?_

_I’d rather take my chances with those sharks you mentioned earlier. But it needs to happen, because the only alternative is losing the love of my life, and I’ll do anything to prevent that._

_So._

_I love you Sebastian. More than anything. And - I’m likely going to be upset, but - I’ll try my best not to get carried away. But - if you see tears, or I run off to the tree - don’t take it personally._

_This is something that is going to be very hard on me, but - hey. I survived dealing with my brother’s suicide and my mother’s murder - how bad can it be?”_

_I smile much braver than I feel._

 

 

"So, as usual I need a drink to do this... Do you need anything, Jim?"

Ugh - why am I sounding so formal? I'm fucking tense. No wonder I need a drink.

"Babe?" I say and you look at me apprehensively. "I love you..." I say softly, and pull you close to me. I feel you exhale, and your muscles relax as I nuzzle into your neck. "I'm sorry if this is going to be hard for you. Just remember that I love you so much - I did then, too - and I always will..."

 

 

_Oh great I’m already crying. This is going to be interesting... the only way to avoid it is going to be hiding all feelings in the bunker and I’m not sure if that’s wise - or even feasible._

_I’m dreading this even more than Georgie and Mam. I feel guilty about them - especially Mam - but - it’s in the past. I *loved* them, and I love them still, but it’s an old love, not this all-consuming passion I feel for you. And somehow love and guilt seem to be directly proportional._

_Oh god I do wish I didn’t have to go through with this... that I could just saw my arm off instead or something..._

_“I love you, Sebastian. And I always have.”_

 

 

I kiss your lips tenderly and gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I get up and it's so fucking hard to separate myself from you, and you already seem so sad, and I'm so worried, and I have no idea what this will do to you... but if there's anything we've learned it's how it fucks us up to hold on to negative emotions. So as I pour rum and cokes for us, I resolve to follow through with this. No matter how fucking hard it feels to go there. Including for you, my sweet violent little fucker.

I bring the glasses (and the bottle of rum) and look around –

“I don’t want to do this here. I want our nest back. It feels like - it protected us before, somehow. Are you okay with that, babe?”

You murmur yes, and we get up to collect duvets and pillows again. I don’t mind doing it myself but - I don’t want to leave you alone with your thoughts. And then when our nest is built - _focus on yourself, Sebastian_...

Moments later, safe in our nest, I look at you and take a deep breath. I drain my glass. and pour myself some more rum.

“So... I used to be afraid the old you would reappear, like in my dreams, and that would be that - this new you would vanish. I didn’t realize until now - the old you has reappeared, all right - but in bits and pieces. And the new you remains but with these moments of old you. I wasn’t prepared for that, somehow - it wasn’t a scenario I had considered. I - don’t know how to handle this part of you in the context of our new relationship. The only way I ever handled the old you was to go along with whatever you wanted. The new me is resisting that hard...”

I drain my glass again and pour more rum.

"It feels hard to access my feelings about the past... because after everything we've gone through, I understand why you were the way you were. But it was easier to be all accepting and forgiving when Moriarty was in the past, and my sweet, loving Jim was in the present. I wasn't prepared for a different version of Moriarty to come out and demand I kill my old army friend... or freak out at me for having an emotional reaction... or grab my fucking _gun_ because I got bitchy during a fight."

I slam my drink back, toss the glass aside, and start to drink from the bottle.

 

"I think one of the reasons it's hard for me to talk about this is... I'm not clear how you saw me back then. I told you my reasons - why I think I chose you unconsciously... so I could be punished... So I could protect someone who was scary and ruthless, instead of sweet and vulnerable... So I didn't have to worry about having a real relationship and risk getting hurt again. But what about _you_? How did you see me then - Did you think I was pathetic and weak? You said that you were like an abusive husband and that I was your battered husband - Do you still think that? Do you think of me as a victim??"

 

 

_Wow. Ok. Not too bad so far. I can deal with this._

_“No, Tiger. Not now, not ever. First of all - I don’t think of abusive relationships like that. It’s not that the abused party is pathetic and weak. Mam wasn’t pathetic and weak. She wasn’t a victim. She had her reasons for being with dad - most importantly wanting to take care of me and Georgie. Dad brought money in - so she weathered the abuse to make sure we had food. That was brave and selfless and I’ll fight anyone who calls that weak._

_Same with you - you had your reasons for staying despite the abuse and I love and admire you for it. That’s what I meant when I said that, Tiger. I’ve never seen you as weak._

_As to how I saw you then... it’s hard, because there were so many layers. But I’ll try to unravel._

_There was a certain disdain for *everyone*. I hated and despised the world - everyone was dumb and inferior. It was important to me - I had to have that world view. So - you had to fit in that as well. You were smart, competent, but I could see that as a - best among inferiors, because *everyone* was inferior.”_

_Except for the Holmeses - but let’s not mention *that* name..._

_“This was getting harder and harder to maintain of course - I was getting to rely on you more and more and was getting attached, which was unacceptable - so I lashed out. The closer you got, the harder I lashed - and then I’d panic I’d lose you and try to be nice - really, the stereotypical abuser._

_But - how I saw you day to day - I tried not to think about it. I focused on work, as I always had; you were there, like you always were. I denied to myself as hard as I could that I needed you. Let alone anything more._

_Meanwhile, under the surface, in the bunker, I had fallen madly in love. And sometimes that showed - and I’d get furious with myself, and often as not get back at you, for it. I *knew* I needed you, and made the most elaborate excuses for it - and you helped so well by making yourself my indispensable right-hand man, someone who could do what no one else could, and who was unquestionably loyal - and great in bed._

_I loved you, and I’d have sooner cut off my hand than admit it.”_

 

 

"OK... and all the times you went too far- And I didn't call you to task for it or beat you or leave? That's a pretty messed up response- You didn't look down on me for that? What about when you could sense I was feeling something for you and you would play mindfucking head games with me... drawing me closer, making me think maybe, just maybe - and then saying something cruel and shoving me away? And I would fall for it every time because I couldn't let an opportunity pass me by - _just in case_ it was real this time... you didn't find that amusing? You sure seemed to at the time..."

*Ouch*. OK I deserve this - doesn’t make it any easier to bear. Harder, in fact.

I shelve the guilt with the rest - I’ve got quite a warehouse going - and ponder your questions for the honest and thorough answers they deserve.

“No, I didn’t look down on you for that - I’m thinking you did, though? I...”

I’m thinking back to those times and it fucking *hurts* but I need to give you an earnest and complete answer.

“I felt - bad that I went so far, berated myself, was afraid you would leave - and as to how I saw *you* - I... admired you? Your perseverance, your dedication, your ability to withstand the ravaging storm that was Jim Moriarty. Perversely, somewhere I believed I deserved that?

Most of me didn’t, but I had my moments of delusions of grandeur...

But I’d never *look down* on you for it. You were the strongest, toughest motherfucker out there, and you proved it over and over. You were a step above mere mortals.

And the mindfucking... god, do you still think that’s what it was?! It was me being - what I then saw as - weak, giving in to the deeply hidden longing to be close to you - and then panicking and getting angry at myself, and... being so horribly cruel to you...to make sure you wouldn’t see the weakness... and you fell for *that* every time, believed I was just playing cruel games with you, that I was having a laugh at your expense...”

Those memories - your face, so betrayed, so despondent, so hurt...

Tears are streaming down my face and I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around you and weep in your arms but this is your time; I have to be strong...

But my heart is being cut with a red hot knife, and I can’t do anything about the tears.

 

 

 

Seeing you cry is...

seeing you cry is so...

_This is your time... focus on yourself..._

Only I'm blanking out completely. I can't talk about myself when you're crying! I _can't_!

You _have_ to, soldier... otherwise you'll never let it go...

"Jim..." I say, my voice wavering. "These are such hard memories to go back into... not exactly high points in my life. I guess I do look down on myself somewhat... but only in retrospect. I don't think I did at the time. But now that I've experienced another way to be, it just seemed like so much _pain and suffering_ to go through... Jesus! I just keep seeing these pictures coming back to me - lying on the floor, bruised and beaten, my face covered in blood... being tied to the bed alone and having to get myself free... nearly being choked to death... the fucking parking lot... telling you to beat the shit out of me...? who _was_ that person?? those _people_?? it's so _fucked_! I'm not trying to rake you over the coals, I'm _not_ \- I don't know what I need, I just - needed it acknowledged, I guess. Because I haven't been able to let it go yet... It happened. But you feel different now, even with old you coming out of the woodwork sometimes. You and I both know I wouldn't go along with any of that _ever again_...

Do I have anger and resentment? Probably not as much as you think, Jim - it's less about the incidents, I feel I can let those go after everything we went through... It's more about what that part of you wants - I feel triggered by him, like he wants to control me or keep me from expressing myself... or hurt me. I'm not sure what to do about that yet... maybe it’ll take time for us to figure that out.

 

As for the cruelty... I had a much harder time with that. But again, it feels like it was two different people than us. I don't think I need to rail at you about _any_ of this. I don't feel angry right now. It's more like - those experiences left their mark on my psyche, like they wore grooves - because they reinforced everything I believed about myself...and what I was worthy of..."

 

I look at you, your face soaked with tears, looking like your heart is breaking. "I _did_ think you were having a laugh at my expense..." My voice cracks. "And it... fucking hurt..." my mouth opens and I can't speak. I throw myself at you. I'm sobbing before we even make contact.

_You recalling the times I went *too far* - a few of them - the knife has now been dipped in acid, grown barbs, and is cutting through my entire body. I’m gritting my teeth together to avoid keening out loud. How could I *ever* - how *could* I?! When all you did was be loyal and sweet and protective..._

_I notice I’m about to fall into a spiral of ‘I’m the worst person ever and you must go before I hurt you further’ and manage to push it away - that’s *not* helping you and it would be putting the focus back on me again, you fucking prima donna Moriarty._

_You’re so calm and - not angry... and I can’t comprehend, how can you not hate me?!_

_And then - you look at me - and your voice breaks and you start crying and *finally* you are in my arms, and I can’t keep it in, I’m sobbing loudly and so are you._

_“I’m so sorry... I’m so incredibly sorry... I was a monster Sebastian... such a monster... I love you so much... I *loved* you so much and you were so sweet and I only laughed at you because I was so afraid... afraid of you coming too close... I was such an idiot, such a cruel unthinking moron... I’m so sorry... I’ll never be able to make it up to you but I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life trying...”_

 

 

I cry harder when I hear how much pain you're in. "Jim... baby, I _believe_ you... I didn't know... _I didn't know_..."

I feel your body shaking against mine, and I hold on to you for dear life.

"You're not a monster! You were just so … convincing... " I sob. "And I was so - _easy_ \- to convince... if I hadn't fucking believed I needed to be punished _so badly_... maybe I could have seen that more clearly... please don't - baby, don't- "

I can't speak through my sobbing, and we cling to each other like we're on a ship about to be broken apart by a storm. Oh god... please, we have to get through this.. _please_ …

_We hold each other as close as we can, both crying our hearts out at the memories of the pain, the pain I inflicted on you, the pain you sought out in me. I’m wrecked by guilt -_ how could I - I’m a monster - I don’t deserve you _and clinging to you so desperately, because you are going to disappear, of course you are, but if I hold you real close maybe you will wait a bit longer..._

 

 

I start to kiss your face, because words are eluding me as I cry... you have to know... you _have to_ … how can I show you? "Please-" I manage. " _Don't - give - up_. I'm still here, baby..."

 

 

_“You’re mental... and I thank my lucky stars that you are...” I say through my tears. “I’ll never give up - not when you still want me._

_I’m sorry I started crying - I didn’t mean to distract you, but it just - it hurts to recall all those things that I did...”_

 

 

"Of course I still want you and of course I'm mental! You foolish, ridiculous Kitten - haven't you heard a word I've been saying all week?" I laugh through my tears.

"No, it's fine... I don't see how you couldn't react emotionally... it's a fucking huge issue for both of us..."

_“I’m just - there’s so much guilt and I don’t know what to do about it. I want to make it right, because it hurts, but I can’t, so the guilt just keeps eating me..._

_Fuck I’m talking about myself again. I’m sorry Tiger..._

_How are you feeling?” That is what you are supposed to ask, aren’t you?_

_Stupid - I can see how you’re feeling, you’re sad, feel guilty for making me sad, want to make me feel better, you’re loving and sweet and god I don’t deserve you..._

 

 

"Shut up," I growl with affection. "You can talk. I'm getting through this, I just can't bear to see you hurting - I'm sorry the guilt is so fucking awful, I understand how it can get inside you and tear you apart...

But, Jim - do you understand the depth of the unacknowledged pain I was in when you met me? 'Walking death wish' is not an exaggeration... I wanted _out_. And if death was eluding me, as it always had, then I needed _something_ \- pain, suffering, punishment - I _needed it_. So, there's only so much guilt you need to take on... I was there for a reason. I just... fell in love with you so hard, and I couldn't help but want you..."

_That remark brings back the tears with a vengeance._

_“We were both utterly broken, weren’t we... lucky we found each other - in the long run..._

_There’s a lot of ‘if only’s, but..._

_I’m so glad you came, and you stayed, and if that is because you were a walking death wish, and I was a raging flamethrower, then... well... it is what it is.”_

_I am still holding you close - I’m not taking risks._

_“And god I loved you... looking back... I’m not sure if it is testament to the quality of my manipulation or to the fallibility of my observational skills that I managed to hide it from myself... and I tried to sabotage it so hard, and it just kept hitting me, and it just got worse and worse... and *I* got worse and worse... and you just... persevered._

_God, Tiger, don’t *ever* think I would look down on you for that. You were... so strong.”_

 

 

"OK, that... really helps. You were just so scathing, so disparaging... it's weird that I took it in stride then, but now it feels completely different. When that side of you comes out now, I fucking _react_ … well, you saw." I sigh and rest my head on your shoulder. "And the rest of it - the cruelty and wanting to hide from your own feelings... that makes sense. It does help having that understanding..."

I sit quietly for a moment, feeling your skin against mine, stroking your hair.

"Yes, we were broken... so broken. I'm glad we found each other too - despite everything it took to get us here. It was worth it. You're worth it. And - I can't help but feel vindicated for my past self. I got to you... I really fucking got to you, didn't I... James Moriarty..." I kiss your hair and close my eyes.

 

 

_“God, *yes*... every time I think that I really couldn’t possibly love you more, I’m proven wrong... I’m a totally smitten kitten...”_

_You laugh at that, and that makes me feel so much better; I made you laugh, I make you happy..._

_But-_

_“Just... you keep talking about old me and new me... and I’m not sure if that’s the right way to look at it. It’s not fair to say that that guy was someone else and be done with it... that was me, and still is me. I’m still the same person... just with feelings added. And you are still you, just with less of a hankering for death and punishment._

_I’m a psychopath. I’m cruel, I’m a megalomaniac, I love inflicting suffering; I’m manipulative, egotistical, domineering. That’s still me, so don’t be surprised when you see that side of me - it’s who I am._

_The big difference is that I am no longer desperately trying to prevent myself from loving you, and that I have feelings. For you. I’m still not feeling a thing about anyone else. Mam, Georgie, you - the holy trinity that has suffered the love of James Moriarty._

_But - I’m still *me*, my love. I’ll try my very best to be good to you, to be good *for* you, but I’m not suddenly a nice man. I’m still crazy, overbearing, volatile. That’s not Old Me coming out... it is me and I’m afraid it will always be me.”_

_I’m not going to say the stuff about how you better leave. You know that tune by now. And you’re too bloody stubborn anyway. I just hope you’re not too disappointed. I like Moriarty 2.0 more as well my love... but I’m afraid we’re both stuck with the old crappy version._

 

 

I'm listening with a sinking heart. I take a long moment to pour myself another drink, and light a cigarette.

"Right... I so did not want to admit that to myself... I _really, really_ didn't. It helped to think of that side of you as another person, or a past version of you. I felt so triggered at the thought of you doing any of those things again... or taking your love away. But I guess it doesn't work that way... it just makes you say mean things and try to shoot me once in a while?

So I have to come to terms with that side of you, and... reframe it, I guess..." I take a drag of my cigarette and look at you through the smoke.  
"And yeah, Jim - I don't have a death wish like I used to - I want to stay alive now that I have something to live for. But - I still fucking feel that self-destructive urge... if I see danger, I want to fling myself into the heart of it and see what happens - and that includes the danger of you and your moods.

So I'll _try_ not to be so reckless and get in your face when you're like that. But... honestly, I have no idea how it will go. It feels like a _magnet_ to me and it always has - I don't know how to _not_ be attracted to danger... It's just... who I am."

_“I won’t do most of those things again... because most of it was a response to you getting so close. The more you got under my skin, the nastier I got..._

_But now you’re completely under my skin, and I’d never have you otherwise, so that is not going to be an issue._

_And I’ll never take my love away. I promised. Please, whatever you worry about, don’t worry about that. I’m yours forever._

_But... go mad with jealousy, explode in a violent rage... I can’t promise I won’t do that. I wish I could, but I know I can’t. I’ll try my best - I mean, I came to my senses on the Bain thing. That shows personal growth, doesn’t it?_

_But... this isn’t a fairy tale where the monster finds true love and is transformed into a lovely prince. You still have the monster, but now with true love. Fortunately the true love isn’t an innocent princess either..._

_So - we’ll have to try to deal. We’ll have to keep an eye on our tempers and on each other, and... try not to kill each other. Or hurt each other. I don’t see an easy solution - we’ll have to try._

_And - I’ll try my very damn hardest. Because I love you so *fucking* much it hurts.”_

 

 

I stroke your face. "I'm right there with you, baby - it does hurt - when you're in pain, it tears me up completely. I can deal with violent, jealous monsters... I just couldn't face losing your love, it _really_ fucked me up to think it was possible. If I don't need to worry about that..." I look at your face closely, and kiss your lips. "Then... I just need to handle this side of you. It's not like I don't have lots of practice... Christ, I was in Moriarty boot camp for four years... I think I can handle my true love acting like a monster sometimes. But... you don't think of me as an innocent princess?" I ask in an injured tone, and chuckle at your expression. "Not-so-innocent assassin, then. All right, so we'll try to keep our tempers in check... and deal with the fireworks when we don't, because it's bloody inevitable... I'll do whatever I have to do. You're all there is, Jim... and I'll fucking love you to the end of time."

_“Sebastian. I don’t know anything about love - that’s your department, and you’re hardly a star at it. But - the only people I’ve ever loved, I love still. And - I tried so hard for four years not to love you, and failed. So - as much as I possibly can say *anything* about the future, I can say that I will love you forever. It’s - unthinkable not to, now I’ve let it in, it’s made its home. And - I mean, look at you. You’re... everything. So - I’m sorry I’m not your Prince Charming, but at least I look like one. And - if I’m being a twat - you can call me on it. I’m not saying I’ll listen immediately - if I’m in a mood, there’s no saying what will happen - but I’ll think about stuff when I calm down._

_And - even when I’m being a massive dick - you can always trust that I love you. No matter what happens, no matter how we fight, at the end of the day, it’s you and me. Always.”_

 

 

I sip on my drink as I consider your words. "I would be delighted to call you a twat or a dick when you're acting like one... I have a laundry list of words for just such an occasion..." I take another drag of my cigarette. "'As much as you possibly can say anything about the future', babe? There's a measured answer...

And what do you mean I'm hardly a star?? I think my work in the love department has been pretty fucking stellar..." I raise an eyebrow at you as I finish my drink.

_Oh no you didn’t get it-_

_“No - Seb - you misunderstand. I honestly was trying to be sweet._

_Look. You know me. I work on exact information. I could say ‘I will always love you’, but how do I know? I don’t have sufficient data. So - I take the information I *do* have, and add it together, and extrapolate the probability from that - it is actually the most sincere declaration of love you’ll ever hear. People bandy the words ‘for ever and always’ around like they mean nothing, and three years later they have forgotten - I don’t do that. I only give absolute statements if I know them to be true. So - if I say - as much as I possibly can say about the future, I will love you forever - that means more than anything anyone else could say - can you see that?”_

_Please say you understand. It was honestly a big deal for me to say._

 

 

"Yeah, babe - I get it. You and I are very different creatures, so obviously we think differently and communicate differently. So long as you know _I'm_ not bandying about words... I know what I know. Obviously I have no way of proving 'to the end of time'... but I like it and I'm not retracting it. Just take it as the romantic sentiment it was intended as ..." I say wryly, but I hold your hand to my lips and kiss it softly.

 

 

_“Oh fuck no Seb... not *you* - I know you mean what you say, and I know it’s true. And I love hearing it... I really do... please keep saying it._

_We *are* different in... most of our things. But I love that. I love how sweet and romantic you are..._

_And you’re right - you are a star at love. I meant you hadn’t had a lot of experiences of healthy happy relationships. But - I’ve never met anyone who can love like you do. Your love burns through anything and everything. It’s saved my life so many times. It’s withstood the most violent and vicious attacks. It’s breached through my bunker; something that was unthinkable. It’s brought the most powerful and megalomaniac man in London to his knees._

_Yeah, Sebastian. Your love *is* stellar. “_

 

 

I beam at you. “Thanks, Kitten...” I turn your hand around and kiss your palm. “Believe it or not, it’s easy with you.” I see your reaction and I grin. “Even if the situation is hard, it’s just...” I think and then shrug. “Fact. Tiger loves his Kitten. Tiger does what it takes to take care of Kitten. Tiger considers ripping Kitten’s head off when he gets mental, but decides he’s too adorable. Tiger continues to love and not kill Kitten. And they live happily as two adorable psychopaths can live, ever after. The End!” I kiss your palm again.

_“I like your fairy tale. Especially because it has two villains and no heroes. Heroes are so boring and predictable... And it has cats. I like cats. Though I don’t see why I am the Kitten. I’m fierce and lethal. Rawr...”_

_I get serious again._

_“So, you said... you feel triggered by old me, like I want to control you or keep you from expressing yourself or hurt you..._

_So, yeah... part of me wants to control you. It’s - well, I’m a control freak, and domineering. It’s - not just a sexual thing, I like to be in charge, I always have. But I don’t want to keep you from expressing yourself. And hurt you - well, that’s definitely just sexual._

_So - how do you feel about all that now?”_

 

 

I take a final drag of my cigarette and stub it out in the ashtray. "I've never minded you being in charge. And some kinds of control are totally fine, as long as I can express how I feel. If I'm angry or annoyed about something, and you try to shut me down - it won't go well. I have a safety valve too..." I drink some more rum from the bottle. "So if this side of you isn't going to try to control my feelings...or fuck with my head to be cruel... I guess I just need to navigate it without feeling triggered by the past. I don't recommend coming at me with a gun, though - when I get it away from you, I'll feel shitty if I accidentally shoot you..." I smirk. "And as for sex, my little psychopath... it's a thing of fucking beauty, Boss..."

_“I’m glad about that... I did worry, a bit. That if I dominate you, when I’m cruel... in a sexual way, and I know you love it, but I’m afraid it might remind you of things past... it makes it a bit more tense. I’m glad you don’t feel that way... and I know you’d say it if you were uncomfortable..._

_So - in the past - it wasn’t all bad, was it? I mean - I went too far, I know I did, but... quite apart from your idea that you deserved to be punished - you did enjoy some of your time with me?”_

_I can’t bear the idea that it was all agony... and surely you’d never have fallen in love with me if it had been... “Our first night... god that was extreme, but it was so intense... I now realize that is what bound me to you..._

_You were in an ecstasy of pain and desire..._

_And so many other nights where it felt *good*, where we danced on that knife’s edge and spiralled higher and higher to realms of rapture that mere mortals can’t even dream of...”_

"Mmm... yeah. Those nights were... Fuck, I don't even have words. And the first night - epic. Game-fucking-changer. No going back - ever. Jesus - you raised sex to a level of ... it was dark sorcery, it was _mythic_. I was completely under your thrall, and there was nowhere else I wanted to be..." I lean back against the pillows and gaze at you. "I've been totally fixating on the negative shit, Jim - of course I enjoyed it... I loved it, it was fun and exciting and … I wouldn't have missed it for the world. It's just the highs and lows were pretty fucking extreme - and the lows really left their mark towards the end. But the highs left their mark, too - like when we were just hanging out - that was the closest I could ever come to happiness back then. We had fun, when you chilled the fuck out - you even let yourself be silly once in a blue moon. God, I loved that - it felt like spotting a unicorn. The first time I saw you drunk, when we got plastered in that snooty restaurant in Inverness - oh god, you were such a lightweight, I practically had to carry you back to the hotel… you were fucking adorable. I fell for you like a ton of bricks, it wasn't just about sex anymore... seeing your sweet, silly side was _so_ amazing. Yes, there were definitely good times, and I should remember those more..." I smile at you. "And all the epic sex and domination. It hasn't triggered me. It took me a little time to let go, but I've loved everything you've done with me, even when it's pushing my limits. Fuck, you're just... amazing."

_I’m incredibly relieved to hear you say this. For a bit there, I’d doubted, thought I’d had it all wrong - but no, I know exactly which bits were right and where it went too far - knew it at the time, but was unable to stop it._

_I need you now - need to feel you..._

_I cuddle closer to you in our nest, hear the sounds of the waves, the cries of the gulls - what have they got to cry about, I wonder?_

_I stroke your face... my love, my husband, my Tiger..._

_I move up my head, kiss you softly... I need to feel your love..._

 

 

I kiss you back, and pull you into my lap.

"Mmm. You taste good," I mumble against your lips. "Rum and coke and Kitten."

I move my hands up and down your back. I'm still thinking of that first drunken evening together. You slumped forward at the table with a goofy grin on your face... blinking up at me and giggling helplessly... me gazing at you in awe, as the curtain of mystique was drawn back to reveal the true Jim that _no one_ saw, ever, ever... except for one lucky Tiger who tumbled head over heels in love at the sight. And now the Tiger has this very same Jim in his lap, kissing him, pawing at him... what's one little attempted shooting compared to this?

"You've made my dreams come true..." I murmur in the Kitten's ear. "I love you, baby..."

 

 

_“I didn’t even know I could have dreams like this...” I ponder. “You’re everything I never realized I wanted.”_

_I remember that drunken night... and the panic that gripped me the next morning when I woke up hungover in your arms and remembered how much I’d let down the armour... the sweet look in your eyes when you woke up, and me too sick to push you away like I needed to - instead throwing up in the bathroom with you rubbing my back and giving me sips of water..._

_And the cruel barrier I pulled up between us when I felt better..._

_Never again... never again will I have to pull myself out of your arms and behind a cold, hard, grey wall. I can enjoy the sunshine of your love whenever I want - the grinning blue eyes, the smile that lights up your face when you see me..._

_I pull my head back, smile at you, and there it is, that wide cheeky grin, looking so happy, happy to be here with me._

 

 

"Well, I didn't have a specific dream of marrying you and having our own villa in Mexico... which is pretty damn sweet. But I just dreamed of you. Being with you... You feeling the same way about me... and oh yes, slow dancing. I did dream of that..." I pull your head down to mine and kiss you sweetly.

 

 

_“Yes! We must do more of the slow dancing. I want to dance to your entire playlist. I still can’t believe you made a playlist. I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done. And I’m so sorry you had to listen to it alone. I want to hear each and every song and hold you and dance with you and kiss you and I promise I won’t complain about your taste in music.”_

 

 

I laugh. " _My_ taste in music? I'll grant you, the song you chose to strip to was... " A visual of your performance sweeps through my mind, and I realize I've been staring off into space. "Sorry, my brain appears to have gone offline. Umm... Good choice, Jim... it was... riveting."

 

 

_“Mmm... think you might be able to be tempted to reciprocate? I did pack you a suit...”_

_The thought of your body slowly being revealed to music makes me practically salivate._

_“You can choose the music, but I recommend Eye of the Tiger...”_

 

 

I choke out a laugh. "Haven't I danced to that damn song enough for you? Oh, I can reciprocate, Kitten... but it won't be to Eye of the Tiger! You'd be laughing so much, you'd miss the show... Even when you were being a total shit, blasting that song made you laugh without fail... it was my secret weapon against cagey psychopaths." I grin up at you, as you start giggling at the thought.

 

 

_“You can do the Awesome Dance,” I giggle. I caught you on my phone one time doing a dance to Eye of the Tiger blasting out of a car radio and you looked so cocky doing it we dubbed it your Awesome Dance. Watching that video on lonely nights away always made me smile... or miss you..._

 

 

"The Awesome Dance..." I scoff. "That's something completely different, and should not be mixed with stripping..." You're giggling madly, but you're looking wistful, too. "What's wrong, babe? You miss the Awesome Dance that much?"

 

 

_“No... no I was remembering how I used to watch it when I was away, or you were... and how I used to miss you, but not admit it to myself... I never want to be away from you again,” I decide. “Look what happened last time - more than ten people dead,” I grin. “And worse, you got hurt. No, it’s not wise... We should stick together. Get someone else who I can send on sensitive missions, or go myself. No more staring at Tigers on my mobile, missing you... ever.”_

 

My breath catches in my throat. "Really? No more missions apart? I hated being away from you..." I confide. "Hated it, hated it... that's when I'd listen to my playlist endlessly... and watch my videos of you. You always pretended to be _so_ annoyed when I'd record you, but I know you secretly enjoyed it... didn't you..." I kiss your ear, catch your earlobe in my teeth and lightly tug, making you squirm.

 

 

_Mmmmm... I stroke you, move closer to you, lick your neck, bite gently, making you moan softly, and this beach has suddenly got a lot hotter..._

_“Bedroom,” I order in a hoarse voice._

_“I now have an image in my head of you stripping, and I’m all about that instant gratification...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> All Apologies - Nirvana  
> Strict Machine - Goldfrapp  
> Dreams Made Flesh - This Mortal Coil  
> Nothing Else Matters - Metallica  
> Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode


	3. Do We Need a Fucking Therapy Calendar?

"Oh..." I breathe. "Any way I can gratify you...I aim to please."

I lift you off my lap and stand, only to sweep you into my arms and carry you across the beach.

"I know... you're perfectly capable. But I like it..." I say with a predatory smile. "I'm your Big Strong Soldier... and I'll do what I want.

Until you tell me otherwise..."

 

 

_“Oooh, my big strong soldier! You saved me from those scary men! How could I *ever* repay you?!” I flutter my eyelashes, flounce in your arms._

 

 

I hold in my laugh. "It's what I do, Sir - Saving helpless victims from scumsucking scary men is all the payment I need... Of course, if you _insist_ on repaying me... I can probably think of a few ways..."

 

 

_“Oh, great big impressive scary soldier man, please tell me what I could*possibly* do! I’m afraid I have no jewels, no gold... I shall always be in your debt...”_

 

 

I chuckle. "No jewels or gold? How were you going to repay me then? I'll have to think long and hard about this... and it's so distracting out here. I'm just going to take you inside so we can talk further..." I slide open the door, and step into the kitchen. "Hmmm... still very distracting with these big windows, I'm just going to find a nice quiet room with blinds."

I head up the stairs. "Oh, I'm getting a _few_ ideas..."

 

 

_“You are so strong... carrying me as if I’m light as a feather... even up these steep stairs... without breathing harder...”_

_I touch your arm admiringly. “What incredibly strong muscles... I feel so safe in your arms, mister soldier man... Your wife is so incredibly lucky...”_

 

 

"Oh, I have no _wife_... I'm married to the job, Sir! Valiant protector. Tough, scary soldier." I kick the bedroom door open and enter. "Oh, look - a nice, quiet room. Sir, you're looking so exhausted by your experience with the bad men. Maybe you should lie down..."

 

 

_“Oh, yes, I believe I should... it’s been most distressing... you seem so unfazed... you must be so brave... it must be so wonderful to be such a strong powerful man, and have no fears... but it must get lonely sometimes...”_

 

 

I give you a sad smile. "It does get lonely... but sometimes the fates are kind to me and send me a gift for all my good works..." I throw you down on the bed. "I wonder, Sir... might you be a gift from the fates?"

 

 

_“Oooh, whatever could you mean? I’m only me... a simple Irish lad, no fortune to my name... what could I possibly have to offer a great big impressive warrior like you?”_

 

 

"Ohh... I'm sure there's something even a simple Irish lad can offer a brave warrior like myself. But first - you're looking so cold... It must be the shock from your ordeal! I'd best warm you up with my strong, manly body..." I kneel on the bed and crawl over you.

 

 

_“Oooh, yes, I am very cold... oh mister soldier sir, you’re so big and strong... you could envelop my entire body with just one of your arms. And you are so lovely and warm... thank you so much, brave gallant warrior, for taking the time to help me yet more... I’ll be forever grateful to you... oh your muscles are so impressive... could I possibly... might you be willing to take off your shirt, so I can see them better?”_

 

 

My arm reaches over my shoulder, and I pull my t-shirt over my head. I toss it across the room, and flex my muscles for you. "Yes, and you can touch them, too..."

 

 

_“Oooh, so hard...” I stroke my hand over your biceps. “I wish I knew a man like you, I’d never feel afraid again... oh, to be held in those arms, if only for a moment... might I possibly impose on you further...?”_

 

 

"You could... but you'll get the full effect if you..." I pull at your t-shirt and yank it off. "... just remove... some clothing..." I unzip your shorts and pull them off slowly, along with your briefs. "There. Now I can warm you up properly." I strip and throw my clothes across the room. I look down at you and lick my lips.

 

 

_I stare up at you, big-eyed. “Oh... you must have seen many battles... such scars...” I trace one with my finger. “I would feel so much warmer now, and safer, held in your powerful arms... please, hold me close...”_

"If I come any closer... there's no telling _what_ may happen..." I whisper as I press down on you, kissing your neck. “Our desires may take us over... lead us to do unspeakable things..." My hand glides down your chest and abdomen slowly.

 

 

_“Desires? Of what do you speak, mister soldier man? What could one such as you possibly desire from me?”_

 

 

"Oh... you mean... you don't know?" I move my lips to your ear and suck gently on your earlobe. "Perhaps I should show you what I mean... and that way you'll be able to decide what you should do..." My hand moves down further and further. "Would you like that?"

 

 

_“I... think I would very much like that... your lips... they make me feel so... warm... all over my body... you make me feel... interesting things..._

_Please, Sir, show me what you desire...”_

 

 

My hand closes over your cock. "Now what do I desire... let me think..." I look down at you, hungrily. "Maybe I'll be able to think better if-" I claim your lips with mine.

 

 

_I open my mouth to your kiss, let your tongue penetrate my mouth as your hand claims my cock. I’m enjoying this little game... letting out my hero-worship side fully... you deserve it, and deserve this innocent Irish lad as your prize..._

_“Oh... Sir... your mouth... your *hand*... I’ve never... felt such things... it feels so good... please, brave soldier, don’t stop...”_

 

 

Your innocent Irish lad routine is a riot. I'm not surprised you look like you’re enjoying yourself - anything related to performing or playing a role is so in your wheelhouse.

I actually find myself believing it a little...

...and I can't say it's not totally turning me on, because that would be a lie.

"You still feel a little chilly... but don't you worry. I'm trained in survival skills, and I know just what to do."

I stroke your cock slowly and firmly. "I think it would be a very good idea to - put your hand on me... and do as I'm doing..." I breathe. “Then we can share our body heat..."

_I nearly giggle at that - an image of the SAS teaching this particular survival strategy comes to mind - but I manage to maintain the wide-eyed stare._

_“It does work... I feel much warmer... but also... quite dizzy... overcome... Your face... it’s so beautiful... and I so long to kiss you...”_

_I close my eyes as you lean down to do just that._

 

 

I lose myself in the kiss, feeling your tongue against mine. We're beginning to pant as our hands move on each other. This innocent Irish lad is not going to hold onto his innocence for long...

When I come up for air, I take your face in my hand and gaze into your eyes. "You're beautiful, too-" I breathe. "Do you want me to do something - that will get you even warmer?"

 

 

_“I think I might burst into flames... I’m feeling a heat I’ve never imagined... and I so love what you’re doing, I’m loath for you to stop._

_But if you want it... I want to do whatever you want... no one has ever made me feel so good... “_

 

 

"Oh, I can make you feel very, very good..." I growl, and flip you over. "This is what I meant by our desires taking over... shall I keep going?" I yank your hips up and slide my cock in between your arse cheeks. "I know it must seem so strange... but do you think you might find it pleasing...?"

 

 

_I pant as I feel you - god, *yes*..._

_“It does feel strange... but you’re making me feel so wonderful... I trust you. And I do think my body is longing for whatever you are thinking of... please follow your desires...”_

 

 

One hand gripping your hip, I reach for the lube.

"It's going to get stranger..." I whisper, and slip in a finger and begin to move it.

I continue to stroke your cock. "... and even hotter..."

 

 

_“Oh!” I gasp as I feel your finger. “Whatever would make you think to do *that*? But... it does feel... interesting... and your hand... so nice..._

_Please, mister soldier, you are making me feel... such strange things... please don’t stop..._

_But is this... how is this pleasant for you? Do you need me to... do something? I want you to feel good too...”_

 

 

“Oh, this is _very_ pleasant for me...” I purr, sliding in another finger, “You’ll don’t need to do a thing except relax... just relax...” I say breathily. “And it’ll feel so good for both of us very soon...“ I kiss the back of your neck.

 

 

_Relax, you say... so I do just that. Let you lead, my brave strong soldier... and it feels good, to let go into your embrace, to let you finger my arse, knowing you’re going to claim it soon, claim it as your prize... and this innocent Irish lad is going to love giving himself to you..._

_“It’s feeling... odd... but so good...”_

 

 

“Mmm... well, if _this_ feels good - I think you’re ready for more...” I withdraw my fingers, and position myself at your arse. “I’ll go slowly... and it will feel so very odd and so very good, and I have the _strangest_ feeling you’ll like it very much...” I start to press my cock into you and stop, panting. “Would you like any more?”

 

 

_“OH!! How is this... is this even possible?! I didn’t know... it... it hurts a bit, but it does feel so wonderful too... and... oh yes I want it... I want to feel more... please, Sir...”_

 

 

“Then more you shall have...” I whisper. “Say a prayer...”

I grip your hips and push forward into you. I pause, my head thrown back, my cock buried in you deeply.

“You- feel- so good-“ I groan.

 

 

_Fuck... and so do you... god, fuck me, Tiger, my hero, my big soldier man..._

_“Ohhhh Sir... that... hurts... but don’t stop... don’t ever stop... oh Sir... you are so big... please... please don’t stop...”_

 

 

"Mmm..." I purr. "You like a big strong soldier putting his cock inside you... hurting you juuuust right...?" I slide out slowly and then surge back in, pulling your arse back against me. "Oh, god..." I moan, my fingers digging into your hips.

_“Yes... yes I think I like it very much...” I pant, pushing myself back onto you. “I think... I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like this... are you sure it’s not a sin? Pastor has warned us...”_

 

 

I almost scoff loudly. Oh, we're going there, are we? What the hell do I say to that?

"Oh, I don't know! But if you're worried, I can stop-" I start to pull out.

 

 

_Oh you bastard - I grin._

_“No! No, I’m sure a brave goodhearted soldier like you would never do anything wrong... and it feels so right, it must be... please...don’t stop... please let your desire take over... I want to feel it, every bit of it...”_

 

 

"No, I would never do _anything_ wrong... I must do the honourable thing, always..."

I grunt as I push back into you, and then I lean over your back. I slide my arms around you, one over your shoulder, one around your abdomen. I start to grind into you in a distinctly dirty manner, while pulling you back against me... "Like this?" I groan. "Does this feel _so right_?"

 

 

_Fuckkkkk... *Yessss*..._

_“Oh god... yes, Sir... so very right...”_

_It feels so fucking good to be held by you in those powerful arms, be held safely whilst being taken mercilessly - absolutely perfect... my inner Disney princess is all aflutter at the big strong soldier, whereas my inner horny bastard is relishing the thrusting cock in his arse. Perfect combination._

 

 

"You can admit it to me..." I whisper feverishly, amidst all the humping and moaning. "And it would be our little secret. Even if it _were_ wrong... would you still want a soldier's big cock in your arse... moving inside you... making you moan?" I pull you hard against me and bite down on your ear.

 

 

_“Yes!” I moan, “Yes Sir... I won’t tell a soul, I swear... I would love to have you inside me every day... every night... please, Sir, won’t you stay with me? I would feel so happy...”_

 

 

I'm beaming behind you.

"You want me to stay with you...? Be with you every night?"

I nuzzle the side of your face and kiss your earlobe and neck.

"Nothing would make this big, strong soldier happier... than to finally find a home..." I breathe against your ear.

 

 

_“Oh, would you really? Yes, I’ll be your home... and I’ll never need fear again, with such a strong man by my side... warming my bed each night... making me feel these secret desires - it would make me so so happy... It does make me feel so happy...”_

 

 

"You'll be my home?" I turn your head to kiss you hungrily. "Nothing could make me happier... nothing..."

I continue to bury myself in you over and over... and I return to stroking your cock as I do. "I will give you all your secret desires... every one..."

 

 

_I moan as you resume stroking my cock. “I’ll be your home... I’ll be here when you come back weary from battle... I will bathe your wounds and kiss your scars, and then lie myself down on our bed to share our desires... oh soldier, Sir, I think I love you...”_

 

 

I bury my face in your neck, breathing in your scent. “You’ll do all of those things for me? I believe you’re a gift from the fates after all... I thought at first you were simply someone who needed to be rescued, but I think you might have been a prince in disguise all along...

And I want to claim you as _mine_... my prince... my own... my love...”

 

 

_“No prince I, I assure you... merely a simple shepherd boy... and you did rescue me; you saved my life, and for that alone I would owe it to you... but... I so long to be yours... to be held in those strong arms, protected from cold winds and evil men - to be held down by those strong arms as you take your desire in me... to experience the miracles your body is making me feel..._

_Oh yes, I am yours... your own... your love...”_

_I moan as your rhythm speeds up. I’m losing myself in the fantasy of the helpless lad rescued and initiated into the secrets of pleasure by the strong soldier... you’re just the perfect strong soldier... and it’s been so long since I was a helpless lad, but it feels good..._

 

 

"Simple shepherd boy? Never... I see the truth of you, my love... You're the prince of my dreams..." I whisper into your ear. "And I will protect you with my body and my heart and my life..."

The game has been shifting, and I'm getting completely swept away by it... kissing your neck and hair... holding you tightly against me... "Sweet prince... I burn for you..." I moan as I move inside you harder, stroke you faster..."Be mine... always..."

 

 

_“I will... I will be yours forever...” I moan, yielding into the sensation of you fucking me, holding me, stroking me... I can completely let go, you have got me..._

_“Oh my sweet brave Knight... all my life I’ve dreamed of a man like you... the saints must have heard my prayers... you are all I ever longed for, and so much more... you make me feel things I never knew possible..._

_I feel like my body is rushing towards something, and I long for it... should I let it? Will you hold me through it?”_

 

"You are _all_ I've longed for too, and I didn't even know it..." I groan, as burning desire engulfs me. " _Yes_ , let go.. let go... I'm your valiant Knight and I will hold you throughout, and protect you as you rest... fuck... give in to your desire, sweet prince... oh, holy fuck..."

 

 

_Ah, of course, when sufficiently provoked the soldier would revert to the coarse language of the battlefield..._

_“Oh... my Knight... I am... by Saint Patrick, what is this feeling... I never... oh Lord...”_

_I groan and shudder as my orgasm sweeps over me; my muscles spasm around you and I can feel it’s drawing you over the edge as well._

_“Ohhhh - god -“ I bite the pillow, roaring into its softness as my seed spills over your hand while I feel yours pour into me._

 

 

I’d be grinning at all your religious invocations if I wasn’t just on the edge of an orgasm... but then you’re coming hard, and I’m following you and... fuuuuck... _so good_...

All my endearments are swallowed up as I’m groaning loudly, pumping myself into you...

 _Jim_...

I collapse against you, gasping for air...

I lean against your damp body, feeling your heart pounding, the quickness of your breath...

I don’t want to move, but I need to hold you, need to see your face... I pull out of you, and fall to the bed. I pull you against me, blissful at the sensation of you in my arms.

“At last, my prince has come,” I murmur, making you giggle.

 

 

_I’m quite proud of how I stayed in character even during orgasm, but your deadpan pun when I’m completely spent and defenceless makes me giggle helplessly, pulling you close. I love the sensation of being held in my strong soldier’s arms._

_I turn my face up to you, smiling. “My brave Knight... you know, when I was young, I used to actually dream of a man like you... I’d fantasize that a big strong boy would come and fight for me, hold me in his arms at night, and I’d think up clever plans, and he’d beat up anyone who ever wronged me..._

_Seems like I got my dream man, finally...”_

 

 

I kiss your lips tenderly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been that big, strong boy and kicked some arse for you. I would have given anything to protect you then. You really dreamed of that, baby?” I pull you even closer, bury my face in your hair. “I’m your dream?”

 

 

_“You’re more than that, Tiger,” I nuzzle into your chest. “You’re everything I dreamed about, but with extras I never imagined - like love, and the best sex ever. But yes - if I think back to teenage Jim, what I dreamed of - a large strong guy who would protect me and hold me - and be my - companion. I’m not sure I thought of love then - I think I’d already lost faith in it - but someone who was my friend.”_

“Well, you’re who I’ve wanted to spend all my time with, always. There’s no one I could have more fun with than you...” I gaze at you. “That’s what I wanted when I was young, too. Friendship... and sex, fun, adventure... and having something to protect.

I was always the one who had to step in and stop bullies and put arseholes in their place - even if they were adults - I think I would have made a good knight... especially if I could have devoted myself to a beautiful prince...” I rub my face against yours. “You are, you know...”

_“You’re rubbish at stopping bullies now,” I grin. “You’re letting me bully half the Commonwealth, and happily help._

_Such a fallen Knight... thought he’d found an innocent shepherd boy, but it was the Devil, luring him to forget his hymn book and turn to a life of crime and sodomy...”_

 

 

I pretend to look stunned. " _What..._?? You had me so convinced of your innocence...! I did ask if you were a prince in disguise, didn't I! And all along, you were the Prince of Darkness...?"

I cover my face with my hands, then lower them enough to look at you. "So now I'm in your evil clutches? Trapped in a life of crime and sodomy?? Well, that's just peachy..."  
I fall back against the pillows. "Ah well, nothing I can do about it now... are you hungry, babe?"

_I giggle. “And thus endeth the Ballad of Brave Sir Sebastian... when realizing he’d been deviously cozened by Old Nick, he valiantly offered to cook him tea._

_And they lived happily ever after...”_

_I snuggle into your arms._

_“I’d like to just lie here for a bit... just enjoy being held by you. I have many years of enjoying being held by you to catch up on...”_

 

 

"Mmm... your cozened knight is happy to oblige..." I bury my face in your neck and sigh. "Who would ever guess the Devil is so _sweet_?"

 

 

_“I thought you read history,” I scoff. “Don’t all the mediaeval cautionary tales tell you how incredibly seductive the Devil is? I always thought it was rather a good deal - you get money, health, knowledge, sex, all worldly pleasures, and all he wants is your soul. So I sold mine at twenty-one.”_

 

 

"I guess the Devil knows his marks intimately. I sold mine the moment I met you... I think it was being wrapped up the first time I heard your _name_..." I kiss your neck and nip it gently. “And yes, I read history but I dropped out, remember? If I had stayed in school, I might have been better equipped to resist the Devil’s seductive charms...”

 

 

_“Yes, because academics are notoriously sane,” I grin. “Though I might have taken longer to find you. It’s rare that I wake up and think ‘You know, what I *really* need for my next scheme is a hot history teacher. Though I think you’d look adorable in tweeds and glasses... “_

_I’m falling into a cosy postcoital doze, I think... it’s one of the best feelings in the world, drifting off in your arms after some great sex... so good that I’d even let myself do it Before sometimes... pretend to fall asleep before I could push you off..._

_I’ll never push you off again, my Tiger..._

_I fall asleep with a smile on my face._

 

I look over and see you’re sleeping. I smile, and smooth your tousled hair. You don’t stir.

I suddenly remember I left a gun out on the beach, hidden with rocks. Slowly, I slide away from you and grab my phone. I want to check on a couple of things for work, while I’m up - I know you’re on it now that you’re back, but it was part of my routine for so long, and we haven’t really discussed business since you returned. So unlike you, but I guess you were keeping tabs on things while you were dead. I feel a twist in my gut - right. The one point I didn’t get to today... And after you tried to shoot me didn’t feel like the right time to bring up my unresolved feelings about that... ‘Hey, Boss - I know you’re feeling guilty about everything you did in our relationship, and feeling some remorse over grabbing a gun because of a bitchy comment... but can we also talk about why you faked your death and how it made me want to kill myself?’

I cover my face with my hand as I walk towards the beach. Fuck. I guess I could bring it up tomorrow... but you were going to talk about your guilty feelings? Jesus, do we need a fucking therapy calendar? I groan and uncover the gun. For a moment I stand looking out at the sea, remember our cleansing swim this afternoon. It’s amazing how much it’s helped being so close to water... I think of David, and his dream warning of the coming storm... Haven’t heard from him since, but - somehow I feel like it won’t be the last time. I smile out at the sea, and send him my love.

And then I hear my phone ring. I look down in confusion - hardly anyone calls anymore, most business is done through e-mail, text, and the dark ‘net. I look at the display - London. Hm.

“Yes,” I say curtly.

“How’ve you been, man?” The warm voice takes me a moment to place.

“Riley?” I exclaim, then turn back to look at the villa. “Riley?” I repeat, quietly.

“Yeah, Boss - why do you sound like that? Something wrong?” He asks quickly.

“What? No! Nothing’s wrong, I’m just- surprised to hear from you...” I keep sneaking glances at the villa.

“We’re in contact every day...” he says with amusement.

“Yeah, online - about business - is this about business?”

“No, Boss - it’s about pleasure...”

“Oh, _God_ , don’t call me that...” I say, raking my hand through my hair.

“Why not? You’re my boss, aren’t you?”

“Oh fuck, Riley... just call me _anything else_. Call me Sebastian, you’ve known me for fifteen years...”

“All right... Sebastian. Word on the street is you’re on a sex-holiday with some boy toy.” He chuckles. “Good for you, man. I’m glad you’re getting out there. And uh... in there...”

“Is that why you called??” I demand.

“Well, I have to admit, I’m a little hurt... you said you would think about us, after that night... and it’s been a few weeks of all business... and then suddenly you have some twink that you’re taking on vacation?”

“Twink?? What the _fuck_ , how did you hear about this??”

“I have my methods...” he laughs seductively. “Since when did you go for twinks anyway? I thought you’d prefer someone a little more built?”

“Please stop saying _twink_...” I beg. “I can’t be talking about this on the phone...”

“All right... when you get back into town, we’ll go for another drink?”

“Oh... god...Riley...”

“I can’t stop thinking about you, man...” he growls. “That night...”

“I promise I will let you know about when I’ll be back in town, and we’ll definitely talk...”

“Oh good,” he says cheerfully. “I can’t wait to _talk_. So - what are you wearing?”

I look down at my naked body. “What am I- what?”

“Do you have anything on?”

“No, I- Riley, I gotta go-“

“Oh sure, leave me with _that_ to think about...” he says in a low voice and laughs.

“Riley... no more calls, OK? We’ll talk when I’m back in London...”

“Why, is your twink the jealous type?” He laughs loudly. “Sebastian Moran, are you _whipped_?”

 _Yes, often..._ , I think. “It’s complicated... I’ll explain later, all right? I gotta go...”

“Sure thing. I look forward to seeing you, Boss...” he whispers and hangs up.

I stare at the phone in horror, and look back to the villa again. What if he calls again? What if you’re there next time?? I consider throwing the phone into the sea, but you would wonder why I need a new one. I'll have to have the phone on silent for the rest of the honeymoon, just in case he calls again...

I receive a text alert and look down.

 _I'm not wearing anything either_ I read with horror and press Delete, continuing to tap the screen frantically, even after the message disappears.

Shit... _SHIT_... I collect the iPad from the beach chair, and slowly return to the house.

_I wake up because I'm cold - Tiger? Where is Tiger?_

_I hear your voice - it sounds like you're outside. What are you doing outside? Are you talking with David again?_

_I walk to the balcony doors, look to see you pacing on the beach, on your phone. You look - uncomfortable, and keep glancing over at the house. What..._

_A cold feeling in my stomach._

No, Jimmy... trust him...

_Fuck that. I didn't get where I am by trusting people._

_I grab my phone out of my pocket and load the monitor app._

Riley Bain

 

_My heart sinks. He's *phoning* you now, is he? And from the way you were looking at the house, not to discuss the specifics of a delivery contract. Fuck..._

_My hand squeezes my phone so hard I'm afraid I'll break the thing. My head starts spinning, I sink onto the bed._

_No calm down Moriarty._

Calm down?! Don't tell me to calm the fuck down!!

_Jim. Look. Remember what happened last time you didn't calm down when I told you? You nearly shot Sebastian._

Well maybe he deserved it!

_Jim. You felt so *guilty* afterwards. Remember?_

_Jim?_

... go on...

_It probably *is* a business call. He keeps looking at the house because he's terrified. Because *someone* is not known for being reasonable and understanding, and he knows you'll freak out if you know Bain's calling him. But it makes sense - he's been away for days; he left unexpectedly, you can't expect them to be able to just *cope* without checking in. And why wouldn't work call? Some things are easier if you can discuss them, rather than email back and forth. It's not like we've been monitoring the email religiously. So. Just *ask* him, will you, Jim?_

_Ugh. I hate to say it, but I'm right. I am a vicious jealous fucker, and poor you know all too well - you *would* freak out if Bain called. And Bain called *you* - not the other way round. I didn't hear the phone - you must have already been on the beach -_ did you know the call was coming?! _\- NO! You were picking up the gun that we carelessly left - you were being a responsible fucking bodyguard and I'm not going to give you shit for that - hear that Moriarty? We will discuss this like two fucking responsible adults and solve whatever crisis the Empire is in like fucking responsible adults and then continue having a nice fucking day like responsible fucking adults - I realize I'm still squashing my phone._

_Come *on* Jim - you have to trust him. He's been nothing but trustworthy for as long as you've known him. He's kissed a guy *once* while you were fucking *dead* - remember that, Jim, how you were dead and left the poor man to rot away because you were a selfish piece of shit? Can you honestly blame him for trying to get a *bit* of warmth after that? And even then – he rejected the guy afterwards because he was fucking loyal to your bloody *corpse*._

Well. He _said_ he rejected the guy afterwards…

_Jim! Why would he lie?_

Maybe because I’m a vicious jealous violent little fucker?!?

_James Isaac Moriarty. Give me *one* reason you have to distrust Sebastian._

_My phone blinks – the phone call has ended._

_I don’t have any. You’ve always been loyal, trustworthy, devoted… You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I married you, and I should learn to fucking *trust* other people. Or – well, let’s not get carried away. I need to learn to trust *you*._

_Another blink. A text message._

I’m not wearing anything either

 

_\-- Message deleted--_

 


	4. Picnic in a Minefield

I find a half-empty bottle of whisky on the kitchen counter, and I slam some back. Jesus... of all the things I was _not expecting to happen_ … I thought we had _got through_ the Bain thing, and all I had to do was explain when I returned home that I'm sorry, but his position has been restructured and I was unable to pursue anything on a personal level, but thank you for everything, here's a lot of money, goodbye. And yeah, I had been feeling a little bad, he'd been there for me when I really needed someone... but Jim comes first for me, first and last and always... and there's clearly no way I can have a personal or professional relationship with him ever again, so … end of story.

Now, I am just going to have to send him an e-mail telling him that things are getting hot and heavy with the man I am on holiday with, so please no more phone calls or texts... I glance at the iPad I threw on the sofa. It can probably wait... but no, I don't want to be dreading any more calls or texts, so... I scoop up the iPad and compose a quick e-mail to Riley Bain. I'm sure he'll laugh his arse off that in his mind I've fallen in love with a boy toy, but- it's not really relevant what he thinks of that. I click Send, log off, and throw the iPad back on the sofa.

I head up to the bedroom, planning to snuggle with you and ask you what you want for dinner. When I get to the door, I open it and see you sitting up in bed and leaning against the headboard... you do not look happy.

"Babe?" I ask. "What's wrong?"

 

 

_Why don't you tell me, Sebastian..._

_I'll give you a chance to tell me exactly what happened out there. Explain to me how your second in command called you about work, and somehow it was relevant that you both let each other know you were naked._

_Please, I'm dying to know._

_I put on my sad, confused face. “I’m sorry. I had a nightmare, and - I woke up, and you weren't there - I was just feeling a bit - confused, and I was thinking of Ireland - it's alright._

_What were you up to?"_

 

 

"Oh, no... I'm so sorry, baby... I realized I left the gun out there when I carried you up here... my bad. And then - I got a work call. It was - you know what - it's not important, it's dealt with and you're obviously upset - do you want to talk about your dream? Is there anything you need?"

I sit on the bed, and put my hand on your thigh.

 

 

_"No, I'm fine, sorry, just a bit - dazed still, only half awake."_

_It was not important. Just the Bane of your life and you sharing your déshabillé. Yeah, completely insignificant. Why would I worry my pretty little head, right?_

_"Is the Empire alright?" I try, one more time._

 

 

I look at you. Something's wrong with your voice, however casual you sound.

And your eyes... the pupils have grown huge - those are Moriarty eyes. Because of your dream?

No, you don't usually get angry and homicidal from a nightmare...

Angry and homicidal...?

Do you... _know something_?? How could you know something when you're still in bed??

 _Irrelevant._  
_Think. Fucking. Fast._

"The Empire is fine. It was actually... a personal call... from Bain. I hung up and sent him a message saying not to call again... Please don't freak out... "

 

 

_A sigh of relief - internally. You're - coming clean –_

_are you though –_

_do you know about the monitoring app on my phone?_

_You know I'm a paranoid controlling motherfucker, you may well at least *suspect* I have something like that..._

_I look into your eyes - you're terrified, and guilty - but you would be, because - well. I don't exactly have an exemplary track record when dealing with Bane._

_"Tell me all." I say in a flat voice._

 

 

I watch you closely - this is hardly the day I'm going to forget what you're capable of when you're feeling emotionally volatile. I heave a sigh.

"All right... he was calling to talk, which I did _not_ expect because we don't generally do that. I didn't even know it was him when I answered. Anyway... I guess he was-" I cringe, and I can't even hide it. "- still thinking about that evening, and - he wanted to talk about it. Oh, and apparently he thinks I have a boy toy, so _someone's_ talking... the driver maybe? Someone at the airport?? So I told him we'd talk when I got back to London... but then I sent him the e-mail saying I'm involved with someone, so he wouldn't call or text back. All right? Are you upset?"

 

 

_OK, I'm processing –_

_You're telling the truth about the call._ _(_ Are you? _)_ _You're telling me about Bane wanting to talk about the evening you had - that would explain why you panicked and looked back at the house._

_Of course the driver's talking - I'd expected that._

_Involved with someone. My first response is to bristle - but then I remember I'm still supposed to be dead, so unless I want you to say you're on a honeymoon with your boy toy, that's the best response possible._

_All sounds good. Just one issue remaining._

 

I’m not wearing anything either

 

\-- Message deleted—

 

_Oh fuck it. Trust him, you say? All of you - me, Mam, Georgie, your ghost ex - alright then._

_I hold out my phone, show you the monitor app._

 

 

I blink at the screen.

My first thought: Oh, holy fuck...

My second thought: You're spying on me?? After fucking everything???

My third thought: Oh. Holy. Fuck.

 

Once more I heave a sigh.

"Jim..." I say and trail off. "He _asked what I was wearing_ , OK?? Obviously he's still interested in pursuing something with me. And I was so _fucking_ flustered during the entire call, that it just slipped out. You know why? Because I was freaking out at the idea that _you_ might somehow find out and freak out... and I thought I was being paranoid. So he sent the text after, and I deleted it, and I sent the e-mail saying no more calls or texts. Did you not see that message yet? Is it part of your daily routine to monitor all my communication? What the fuck is going on, Jim??"

 

 

_Well even I have to admit that makes sense. I mean, there are plenty of pathways in my brain that I could take that would explain to me how this is all diabolical and how you are cheating on me, but the most *logical* (and remember, Jim, you value logic) interpretation does match up with what you're saying - Bain tried to pursue you, you panicked, tried to hide from me. And you didn't even try that hard - you did confess he'd called you before you realized I'd monitored you - your shock and exasperation when you saw the monitor app were genuine._

_"Seb. OK. Fuck. One sec, please. This is all - fuck. I'm - you know what I'm like. You know I have violent jealous insane Jim *right here* ready to explode. I'm trying to keep him under wraps, I really am. Sorry. Just - fuck."_

_I take a deep breath._

_"I believe you. I can understand you panicked when he called and were afraid I'd freak._

_I woke and saw you pacing on your phone, looking at the villa, fear of me overhearing you so blatant on your face - that's when I snapped and opened my phone monitoring app. I have one for all my senior staff - it shows who you call and how long, records the conversations, shows texts. It's all quite standard procedure - most big companies have it. Except I don't have a disclaimer message saying that this call may be monitored for staff training purposes._

_You can imagine how I felt when I saw who was calling you, who had you looking at the house, scared I'd find out. *FUCK!!!* I was furious - but - I managed to convince myself it was innocent - a work call, having you freak out just because of *who* it was calling you..._

_And then that fucking text... Come on Seb, what would you have thought?"_

 

 

"The fucking text, yeah - that would have seemed pretty incriminating..." I say slowly. "I can see why you were upset. So the app records conversations and texts... cool, cool... were you monitoring me while you were dead?"

 

_"No... it's easily traceable, and I couldn't risk it; I didn't monitor anyone while I was dead."_

_I sniff. "I monitored the London papers religiously - always made me feel warm when I recognized something as blatantly your work..."_

 

 

I watch you as you speak, then nod and stand up.  
"I need a shower."

I get up and walk to the bathroom. "Everything's fine," I say as I go in." I just need a few minutes."

 _Click_.

A few minutes to my fucking self.

 

 

_Oh *you're* upset now are you?!? Oh no great! You get sexts from some hot bloke, I find out, and you need some time to yourself. Of fucking course._

_My first impulse is to follow you in and beat you up - but I don't do that anymore._

_My second impulse is to storm off to *somewhere* that isn't here with you, but I don't do *that* anymore either._

_This whole being reasonable thing is seriously cramping my style._

_I could take a leaf from your book and start shooting stuff (stuff, not husbands), but I'm not sure if that would work._

_I could get in touch with Steve on your account and have him get rid of Bane, which is incredibly tempting... I said I wouldn't make *you* kill him..._

_I might just do that... but let's do the thing where we don't follow our first (or second, or third) impulse, OK Jim? Just... take it easy for a moment, have a sip of water, wait for Seb to come back, be mature about this._

_I could *really* do without this whole responsible adult thing. It's very unsatisfying. But - long game, Moriarty. Seb's your end game. You're to be very, very careful with him._

_Unlike Before._

_I sigh in frustration, throw the water bottle across the room, but it's plastic so only bounces unsatisfactorily off the wall and sprays water everywhere._

 

 

I don't bother locking the door behind me. The sound would infuriate you, and it's not like you couldn't pick the lock or break down the door in seconds. _Jesus_ … you're probably freaking out about this. Aren't you. Fuck it.  
I step into the shower, blast hot water at myself. I don't need it as hot as you like, but the extreme sensation feels good.

 

So - for the moment I avoided another one of your fucking meltdowns. Fuck! Didn't you already try to _shoot_ me today?? This honeymoon is starting to feel like going for a picnic in a minefield.  
And I get that I'm supposed to be integrating that Moriarty is a part of you, and not just your past self... but I just realized that _today_ , give me some fucking time to adjust to that little fact!

_Crack_

I look down at my bloody fist and realize I just punched the wall. The beautiful tile is cracked. Shit - one more thing to replace. I wipe the blood from the tile, and sigh.

I do feel a bit better. A _bit_.

I'm still pissed off. About the spying. About the unresolved feelings about you faking your death - you are _fucking_ lucky you weren't spying on me then. And about having to handle these moods - it's been a chaotic few days. I just need to blow off some steam. I need...

A thought comes to me and I smile.

I shut off the water, towel myself dry.

I return to the bedroom. "Hey, Boss…" I say casually, stepping over a water bottle. I cross a damp patch of carpet and start to get dressed.

 

_Oh, it sounds like *someone* is pissed off - you're bashing a tile in the shower. Great - like this place doesn't need enough repairs as it is. We're bloody_ _literal_ _homewreckers. It'll be a miracle if it's still standing after this honeymoon._

_I look around for something I can break - I'm not going to punch the wall and hurt my hand, thank you very much - but you've already pretty much cleared the place out when you had your breakdown._

_Great. We need to order more ornaments - some nice busts of Thatcher or something._

_I pick up the TV, which is satisfyingly heavy, and throw it off the balcony onto the patio below, where it scatters into smithereens. What do you know, this *does* make me feel a bit better. I head back to get the DVD player. Less satisfying because too small. I'm eyeing the nightstand when I hear the click of the bathroom door._

_You walk in, doing your infuriating 'nothing's wrong whatsoever' routine and start to get dressed._

_We don't beat him up... we *don't*..._

 

 

I glance at you. Livid. Great.  
"Oh no... the TV seems to have gone missing..." I comment cheerfully, tucking a gun into my waistband, and another in a holster around my calf. "I guess we should start a list of things to repair and replace, huh darling? Add a tile from the shower wall, and... well, it'll be a running list."

I eye you, standing in the middle of the room and glaring at me furiously.

"I'm gonna go check something out - don't worry, I'll take a cab and I won't be that long. Love you. If you want to come with me, you're welcome to."  
I raise an eyebrow, enjoying your shocked expression, and walk from the room. "Leaving in five, babe."

I don't _think_ you'll shoot me on the way out. If it's going to happen one day, then I’ll still be glad I did this - and I can't be paranoid every time I leave a room with an angry Kitten in it. I head down the stairs, grinning madly.

 

****

_You're going *out*?! Didn't we agree we weren't going to walk out during a fight?! Wait - are we even fighting? What the fuck is happening?!?_

_You touched on my one weakness though - I'm curiouser than the Cheshire Cat, so I will have to come along - also, we're not done. With- whatever was happening._

_"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" I demand after I got dressed, got a gun of my own, because better safe than sorry, and have walked downstairs, where you are fucking grinning._

_Am I really not allowed to beat you up any more? Not even a little? Whose idea was this? How am I ever going to keep you in line if I can't punish you? But I'm not supposed to keep you in line any more, am I... I'm just supposed to let you run around like a free man, gallivanting all over Mexico..._

_Though I don't know where and that infuriates me the most. I need to know stuff and I need to be in control, is that really so hard for you to understand?!_

 

 

"Oh, just a little something I've wanted to do for a long time. You're coming with?" I leave through the front door, with a sly smile.

I wait a moment and then you appear, storming out the door. You're fuming but I know you're curious as hell.

"Perfect timing. Our chariot is here..."

A taxi pulls up at the front gate and we head out, making sure to lock up securely.

We get into the back seat. I ask if the driver knows the address, he nods, and we're off.

I look over to you where you're shooting daggers at me and clearly losing your mind over wanting to know where we're going.

"Oh, just be open to where the road takes us," I say, fiddling with my phone. The opening notes of Paint it Black fill the air.

I pull you by the shirt towards me. "When we get home, baby... if you still want to hit me, you go right ahead and hit me. But you know I'm going to hit back, right?" I kiss you hard. Then I push you back against the back of the seat, grin at you and turn to look out the window.

 

_... what the FUCK are you up to, Moran? *Moriarty*, I correct myself. That's another thing with marriage - you can't just switch it off when your spouse makes you want to kill them. Well, technically you can, but it would be a bit permanent._

_I am not in control - I'm in a car driven by a random stranger underway to an unknown destination chosen by you. I am very much not comfortable with this. I don't think this has happened to me in decades - I make sure I know what happens when, why, where *all the time*._

_And it's not like you're whisking me away for a nice weekend surprise - we were having a - not fight - I was trying not to be angry, and then *you* got - not angry, but - stroppy? and then all of a sudden you have called a cab and now we're going somewhere, and you're talking about fighting when we get home, and you're being fucking *cocky*._

_And fucking Bane is still actively pursuing you. For the first time, you say - but I could check that with my monitor app –_

_And that's what pissed you off, wasn't it? The monitor app? Why on earth? Why wouldn't I check when you were blatantly uncomfortable with a phone call, afraid I'd find out? You do remember you're still my employee? Or is that something that also changes with marriage - suddenly you're not supposed to check on each other anymore? It's not like I freaked out over it! You should be fucking - happy, or something!_

_Should we have a fight when we get home? Will it clear the air?_

_Let's just wait where we're off to. I look at you - I wonder if it's a gun range. You do love your gun ranges. And it would allow you to let off steam - and me as well. Might not be a bad idea. I wonder if you have any photos of Bane I could hang on the targets._

 

 

A few moments later, I glance over at you. You seem tense and upset.

"Babe."

You look over, your face unhappy.

"Isn't it nice to be out of the same environment for a little while? I wanted to see this other village, and there's something I need to check out at a store. I really need to blow off some steam, and I think it would be good for both of us. If you don't like being out, we won't stay long. But if you're all right, we can get something to eat before we head back. Deal?"

You shrug and mutter something. Could be ‘yes’. Could be ‘I hate you and I'm going to make you pay for this’. Could be ‘Yes. And I hate you. And I’m going to make you pay for this.’ I’ll take it.

I point at the main drag coming up. "Here we are. There are a few stores you may want to look at after, but there's the one I want to go to. _Look_ …" I can feel my eyes lighting up as we near the motorcycle dealership. "I'm going to test drive one!!" I say happily. "Wanna ride, baby?"

_I'm having a word with myself. I'm trying to be *reasonable*. Because that's what I usually wish I had been afterwards. And I'm trying to take the long view here. I have no real reason to be angry with you, do I? I know that's never stopped me before, but hear me out, me. Do I really want a repetition of all the senseless violence inflicted on you just because I got inflamed at something? Do I really want to add *more* to my already way too sizeable pile of guilt? Let's *assume, because you have absolutely every reason to*, Moriarty, that Seb was telling the absolute truth. Go on. Go mad. Assume. If that is so, then there is no way on earth he’s to blame._

_Bane still might need an accident, but we'll think about that when we're in London, right?_

_So - what are the options of you *not* telling the truth? What if you were encouraging him, flirting with him? If you were - *you're dead* - no *stop it* Jim, think about this *logically*, fuck's sake man, stop being an emotional toddler and apply your genius to this, it's what it's for._

_Coolness. Icy spark in the centre of your brain - let it expand outwards - that's it. No emotions. Cool logic._

_How logical is it to assume that you're still flirting with Bane? After the endless devotion you've shown me? Remember the walking corpse with empty eyes I saw when I first walked in the door? Didn't look like a guy about to pursue a happy relationship with his second in command, did it?_

_Also - you didn't know about the monitoring app, that was genuine dismay you showed. Why would you have told me Bane was calling if you could have made literally anything up? A crisis at home, someone didn't know what to do, didn't have time to email –_

_So - *all logical evidence* points to you telling the absolute truth. This Bane is still pursuing you - well, who wouldn't, after a night with Sebastian Moran, then hearing he is on holiday with some toy boy - it all makes sense._

_So. There is a suicidal ex-soldier trying to get into his crime lord boss's pants. It's happened before... I almost smile._

_What else am I pissed off about? That you went into the loo and then acted all breezily? Because you should have known it would set me off? Because you are not allowed to walk out for five minutes if you get worked up at my incessant *moods*? God, *I* get tired of those, how could you ever be expected to cope?_

_But you did cope, all those years... and see where that got you... beaten up, ignored, abandoned. God, no, Seb, please, push at me when I get unreasonable. I may hate it at first – may try to shoot you – oh god was that only this morning?!_

_I’m so sorry Seb… I love you, you are doing *everything* right, and I reward you by being a fucking violent volatile idiot…_

_We get into town and you beam at me because there’s a motorbike shop and you want to go for a ride. Your smile, like a little boy excited at the prospect of having a donkey ride in Blackpool. Your eyes, gleaming but also slightly wary of how I’ll respond._

_I launch myself onto your lap, kiss your forehead, your cheek, your surprised smile._

_“I’d love to go for a ride with you, *baby*,” I grin._

_I have a licence – I have several, in different names – but I didn’t bring it. However, I have enough pesos that that might not make a difference – but I am still in enough of a cute little boy hero-worshipping the big soldier mood that I fancy riding with you, holding on to your waist while you negotiate winding Mexican lanes._

 

 

I'm so relieved when you react as you do. I didn't realize I was worried you'd do the opposite and demand we go home. Or say I shouldn't be riding while I'm still recovering from my wound.

But not only you seem into it you're also on my lap, kissing me - and I also didn't realize how much strain I had felt today during the not-so-good times. It feels so good to be holding you again.

I close my eyes, and press my face against your chest, sighing. Then I look up at you and smile.

"This is going to be awesome..."

The taxi pulls up to the curb, and I hand over some pesos to the driver. We head into the building, past gleaming new models towards the counter.

After handing over my license (which is always in my wallet, because I love to ride and I've wanted to do this for _so_ long), the man asks which bike I'd like to test - I turn to you.

 

"So I was going to test the Triumph Bonneville... but they have the Tiger 800, too. You like to ride Tigers, don't you?" I ask, nudging you.

The man excitedly launches into all the features of the Tiger while we grin at each other. Before too long, I'm throwing a leg over the bike, and you're getting behind me and wrapping your arms around my chest. I turn my head towards you. "How do you want to ride this Tiger, baby... start slow and gentle? Or go hard and fast?"

 

 

_I love seeing your smile - relieved, relaxed, excited about riding a bike. You don't get to do it much in London - well, you do, but it's tedious, trying to get through the London traffic, stuck in 20 mph zones - I can see the anticipation of abandoned coastal roads unfolding before you shine out from your eyes._

_"You know how I like my Tigers, honey..." I purr. "Hard, loud, and between my legs..."_

_The guy looks a bit surprised at my hopping on behind you, but hands us both a helmet and we're off._

 

 

I peel out of the lot fast, noticing the man’s worried expression. Relax, señor... this baby is in good hands.

I pass by a food stand that looks like one of those holes in the wall that tourists miss completely and has all the best food that the locals flock to. I stop, hop off the bike and come back a few minutes later with a bag of hot, sizzling food in takeaway containers and a couple of cold Coronas.

Once these are packed away in the saddlebag, it only takes a few minutes to leave the village behind and hit the quiet road I’d envisioned, with nothing but sloping hills on one side and ocean on the other.

 

I speed up, and the bike handles every curve like a dream. I feel your body pressed against mine, and the sun shining down on us, and I feel so fucking happy. When I see a good spot to stop, I take the bike off-road and down a sloping dirt hill towards the sea. We stop a ways off from the sand, and I gesture towards a boulder.

“I think our table is ready, darling..” I get off the bike, take off my helmet and reach out for your hand. “My prince?”

_I have to say I prefer a good chopper with a nice sissy bar to those sports models which have nothing to hang on to - on the other hand, it gives me a good excuse to grab a good handful of Tiger. The one on top, not the one underneath._

_I can ride, but I rarely do - it's a handy skill to have, but not one that comes up often. I know you love it though - any chance to go cruising down country lanes. I'd often insist on you taking a car instead - less conspicuous, easier to transport stuff in - but if you had a chance to take a bike, your eyes would light up and you'd almost skip to the job._

_This is not a job - it's pure pleasure. It's not something I'm used to, but it is enjoyable, feeling the wind blow away all the stuffiness, the confident ease with which you negotiate tricky corners; remembering to lean with the bike, not against it as we slide close to the ground._

_You pick a beautiful spot, park, and help me off the bike. I grin at you as I step off, take off my helmet, and grab you close for a kiss. "Well-chosen, my gallant Knight."_

 

 

Your lips on my lips feel so sweet. Especially after the day we've had. I kiss you back, running my hands along your back.

Then I take your hand, grab the bag of food and head for our spot. We climb up onto the boulder, and sit with our legs dangling off the side.

 

I unpack the containers. "Smoked chicken tacos with salsa verde… roasted corn... mango with cilantro and coconut... and pambazos, that's potato and chorizo sandwiches... I know, it's waaay too much. But it all looked so fucking good, I just kept ordering. And it'll be delicious as a late-night snack watching Game of Thrones." I twist off the lid to your Corona, and hand you the still-cold bottle.

I twist the lid off mine, and hold it out. "Cheers, babe."

You clink your bottle against mine and we drink, not taking our eyes off each other.

 

"I'm ... so fucking glad you came with me." I smile at you, and squeeze your hand.

 

 

_"Yeah... me too," I admit. "I don't know - I was so livid, but I tried to restrain it... I think I did pretty well?" I look up at you and you look back so fondly, hugging me close._

_"You did great, Kitten..." you grin. "Didn't even try to shoot me."_

_I frown at that. "I know... I'm so sorry... I was... I'm mostly livid at Bane. But to be completely fair, I can't even blame him. I mean, who could spend time with you and *not* want to pursue you to the ends of the earth? And he doesn't know I'm in the picture, he just doesn't want you to waste away pining for me... Even I can't see fault in that. Much as I'd like to."_

 

 

I place the back of my hand against your forehead. "You feeling all right, babe? You sound delirious..."

You push my hand back, and roll your eyes. "Ha ha… I'm so reasonable, it must be a fever. Hilarious..."

I grin. "It is, kinda... today hasn't exactly been the calmest day we've had... I'm sorry for the things I did that made it harder to... not shoot me. I guess I'm still figuring out how to be supportive of you and me at the same time... it's not going smoothly, is it? I think five years just took their toll, and I just can't give 100% to managing somebody else's moods, even someone I adore. I like being able to have my own moods... unfortunately it's been coming off as rude and snarky and flippant and arrogant, and that's just going to add fuel to the fire, isn't it? I'm sorry about that. Yes, you did restrain yourself this time - only the TV suffered. I appreciate it... I restrained myself too, I hope you could tell? And I hope you could see that the reason I was panicking was not just because I was worried about you freaking out, but I was trying to keep Bain from getting killed, too. I hope his reprieve stands... he has no idea you're alive, so it's not like he was expressing an interest in your property, in his mind.

Anyway, I won't be hearing from him again except for business so... let's talk about something else. I like the bike and I'm getting it. You ride - do you want one, too? We could go for rides along the coast like bad-asses whenever things are getting heated back home. It's hard to be mad on the open road... and we won't be able to argue while we're riding... so by the time we get to our destination, maybe we'll forget about fighting and just fuck."

I grin at you and pop a piece of mango into my mouth.

****

_"It's really hard to have to think of someone else. I've never had to think of anyone but me - others were there to manipulate, to further my goals, and to serve my whims. Then when you came along, you were the same, except closer... my first impulse is still to get mad, to demand you do what I want - as you've noticed," I say with a wry smile. "And of course you should be entitled to have your own moods - to be your own person, rather than my tool... I know that, but it's bloody hard to switch off the habit of a lifetime. But I want you to be yourself. I want you to be able to be snarky and arrogant and grumpy and... everything. When I saw you on that beach, and I saw you looking at the house terrified - I don't want to be the person who terrifies you! I don't want you to have to walk on bloody eggshells around me all the time! You're wonderful and I fucking adore you and I want you to be fucking *comfortable* around your own husband!"_

 

 

“Yeah? I want that, too! And I fucking love you... And I _know_ you and your demons, James Moriarty... so I don’t expect things to be sunshine and kittens all the time. Sometimes it’ll be thunderclouds and... homicidal kittens. I’m clear on that... I just have to ride out the storm, and... see what works and what doesn’t. I’m surprised to hear you want me to able to be snarky and arrogant and the lot... but it’s pretty much a given, babe. There’s no stuffing that genie back in the bottle... you’re stuck with the real me, and I’m a cocky fucker.” I lean in and kiss you. “But I guess you’ve already noticed that...”

 

 

_"Well you've always been a snarky fucker... And I loved it. *Anyone* else would have been dead... but you just made me laugh, made me forget the insolence when I saw that fucking cocky grin, those eyes half amused at your own wit, half shocked and convinced that *this* would be when I would finally kill you for it. And you were arrogant - you knew you were the best at - everything, and you moved and acted accordingly - not with me, usually, but sometimes - I'd try to keep you out of something, and you'd flat out tell me I *needed* you because I'd cock it up on my own - and often you were right._

_And you know - I have always had a thing for bad boys... With their cigarettes, and whiskey, and motorbikes... And their cockiness..." I grab you around the neck, feel the bandage, let go with a shock, lay my hand onto your cheek, and kiss you._

 

 

“Oh, bad boys, _plural_... maybe I want to be the _only_ one...” I kiss you back heatedly. “I’m the jealous type too, my darling prince. I never was before you, but I would lose my shit if someone started sniffing around you...”

I look at you, realization dawning.

“Oh. _Oh_... I’m so sorry... I wasn’t thinking at all of what it was like for you... I totally get it, Jim...”

_"Well *thank you*..!" I say, vindicated. "It was bad enough in the past - whenever we went *anywhere* everyone would be drooling over you. I was so shocked when Juana seemed more interested in me - until I realized she wanted both of us. But yes - it was a good thing that you didn't have any interest in anyone but me, and that everyone who worked with us was too terrified of me to dare show any interest in you. It's just - I'm *yours*, and you're *mine*, and the sheer *gall* of anyone who would think they could get in between..._

_And yes, I know your Bane doesn't know. That's why he isn't dead._

_But yeah, we're both jealous fuckers. It's because the people we're married to are so *fucking awesome*..."_

 

 

I sling my arm around your shoulder. “We _are_ fucking awesome... and no one else could even come close. And now Bain _does_ know that I’m with someone, so it’s a non-issue. But I so appreciate that you held back from killing him...” I watch your face. “You were going to, weren’t you...”

 

 

_"Well you know that - I told you to."_

_You look at me with a 'not what I meant' - look on your face, and I look at my shoes. "I did consider it - but then I'm always considering killing people, you know that. And he told you he *wasn't wearing any clothes*!!! People have died for *much* less!"_

 

 

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I understand that, Jim... you know what babe, let’s not get into this right now...” I caress your face and kiss your lips gently. “I’m enjoying getting along _way_ too much to spoil this. Is that cool with you?”

 

 

_"I don't know... I think you're wearing *way* too many clothes..." I grin, grabbing at your jacket, pushing it off._

 

 

I laugh as you start pulling off my clothes. “The dealership guy is going to wonder if we disappeared with his motorcycle...” I look at your face, and yank your arms out of your jacket sleeves. “Fuck it,” I growl, and kiss you feverishly.

 

 

_It's a boulder in the middle of nowhere, and now it's our stone bridal bed, we're writhing and moving and removing clothes and kissing and trying not to fall off, because for some reason this needs to happen on this boulder, and not on the ground. Our hands are all over each other on the warm stone in the late afternoon sun, and it's you and me and for the first time we're not in our sanctuary - … or in the apartment in London - … or an aeroplane - ok, alright, we've been around - but it still feels exposed, outside, vulnerable, but I have you, and you will not disappear, and if you don't disappear I won't fear... heh... that rhymes..._

 

 

I feel the hard rock under my back, as you roll me underneath you. “I want you...” I breathe in between kisses, and wrap my arms and legs around you. “I want you inside me, fucking me like no one else can... Dark prince... Show me I’m yours... and _don’t be gentle_...”

 

 

_See Jim? You wouldn't have had this if you'd blown up, or worse, hurt him. It pays to be nice._

_… what the - when did the fucking Sesame Street moralists get a voice in my head?!_

_Kindly fuck off and let me fuck my Tiger the way he deserves - hard, well, and most importantly, by me._

_I kiss you, pressing your head onto the boulder; lick my finger, dribble some saliva onto my hand, and press it inside you. I won't be gentle, my love, but I will be responsible._

_"You're mine Sebastian Moriarty... completely and utterly mine... mind, body, heart, and soul..."_

 

 

Oh god, I am _melting_ at your words... your fingers... the thought of being taken by you on a rock hard and fast... down and dirty... even with no lubricant... after the day we had, I'm craving being possessed by you... hard.

"I'm fucking yours..." I whisper hoarsely. "Whatever we're figuring out, however difficult it is, in the end it comes down to this... _I. Fucking. Belong. To. You._ So please, just _take_ me... I _fucking_ want it..." I growl.

_"I know you want it," I purr. "But you know what? I don't care... I'm going to take you, fuck you hard, because *I* want to... You're mine to be taken when I want, Sebastian... However I want. And I love that... I love that you belong to me, to do with what I want... I fucking *love* you..." I'm leaning my pelvis on my hand, and moving it up and down as my finger is thrusting into you. I lean back, lick your cock, a single stripe from the balls to the tip, close my lips around it briefly, then add some more saliva to my hand, push in a second finger, move back up and resume my thrusting._

 

 

"Oh god, I love you..." I moan. "I know you don't care, you fucking - hot - psychopath... I love it when you take me however you want, you goddamned sadist, it makes me go fucking crazy... show me you own me... oh god, _Jim_ …"

 

 

_Your words fire me up - god how hot is it to have someone, no, not just someone, to have *you*, the hottest guy on the fucking *planet*, completely at your disposal? You're - you could have *anyone*, guys and girls are throwing themselves at you wherever you go, but you're *mine*, completely and utterly *mine*, and I'm going to fuck you so hard..._

_Some more saliva on my cock, and this will have to be it, I'm going in Tiger..._

_I press inside, and you groan and your eyes close and your head arches back, and I dive onto your neck, biting._

 

 

Your teeth in my neck... and that burning, stretching sensation in my arse feels so fucking good right now... it's exactly what I want, what I _need_... "Oh _god_ , you feel amazing... I want your pain... I want your domination... I want everything, Jim… all of you..." I groan and arch my back against you, wrap my legs around you as you're driving into me.

 

 

_You're pressing yourself onto me, sliding me in further, and it feels so good, it always feels so good to get inside you, it's coming home in a sexual way, and I guess it's the only home I have now - but it's more of a home than any collection of walls has ever been. When I'm inside you nothing else matters, you have your arms around me, I am lost in the blue of your eyes when they look into mine in slight shock at the sensation of me thrusting into you, your moans fill my ears, as your eyes screw closed, and I smell your breath, taste your lips - you fill my world, and that is all there is, you are all there is. My Tiger._

 

 

You're gazing at me, and I'm swallowed up in the black pools of your eyes...

oh god... it's happening again... I'm falling deeper in love with you. Somehow having weathered such dark, tumultuous times and moved forward through them... has brought us to a deeper, more potent love. I can see you're feeling it, too.

 

I place my hand against your cheek. "I love you," I whisper over and over, as you move inside me. I sense your orgasm rising and I push myself against you, welcoming it.

 

 

_God - you look at me and - oh god your *eyes*, Tiger –_

_And you're stroking my cheek and saying you love me again and again –_

_I am lost, I am completely lost inside you, I know nothing but your words, your hand, your eyes, the sensation of you around my cock - I move faster, no time to wait, to waste, you're mine, I'm going to come inside you, because that's what I *do* –_

_"Sebastian -" I pant, "You're - everything - all I've ever wanted - you're my love, my home, my desire, *mine*... oh god Sebastian..."_

 

 

"You're all I want, Jim... all I could ever need... come for me, baby... " I gasp, and move faster against you. I place my other hand on your cheek, and lean up to kiss you. "Come inside me, fill me... please..."

 

 

_I will, my Tiger... I will..._

_And I *am*... for the umpteenth time I am coming spectacularly, inside you, the man I love, the man who is my home, my husband, my property, my partner..._

_My beautiful Sebastian... you look sublime, beatific, in the golden sunlight, the sea behind you, your face contorted in delight as you feel me spilling into you._

****

It's something I can never get enough of... feeling your desire pour into me. I hardly need physical proof, but I feel a smug sense of satisfaction every time.

 _I_ inspired this in Jim Moriarty... he who needed nothing and no one - this dark god among men - wants _me_.  
I also feel a sense of loss and sadness when you pull out of me, every time - and this time is no different. A hollow feeling opens up in my stomach, reminding me of the abyss that lodged there for so long.

But when you lie against me and kiss me, the sadness and hollow feeling dissipates. I haven't lost you - I feel more bonded to you than ever - here on this warm rock... lying naked with you under the sun... listening to the waves. As you stroke my face, I feel my cock lying hard against me.

" _God_ , you're a sexy fucker," I sigh, kissing your neck and wrapping my leg around yours.

 

 

_"Aren't I just..." I pant. I look at your erect cock; a cruel smile forms itself around my mouth._

_"What a beautiful cock... what could I do with one of those, I wonder?" I stroke my finger along your shaft, making it twitch._

_"I know... I'm going to do absolutely nothing..." You look at me, shock on your face. Oh god I'm such a power-hungry bastard, aren't I..._

_"I'm going to do nothing until we get safely home. Then... I believe I ordered a striptease earlier... and wasn't given one. I am most disappointed. But I do think that a Tiger in biking gear stripping might even be hotter than a Tiger in a suit... So let's try that out, shall we? If it's disappointing, I'll make you put on a suit and do it again._

_If it's nice, however... let's say if it manages to get me hard again... You'll get anything you want after. Deal?_

_Oh no I forgot, you don't get a say in this..."_

No one can make me go from feeling cocky to whiny like you can... you little shit.

“I didn’t think you meant right then and there... I thought you meant - sometime...” I wheedle. “I was going to do it soon, babe... I even had an outfit in mind...”

You smile and shrug your shoulders. “I feel for you, Tiger... Oh, wait - I don’t. Do you want to stay and watch the sunset, darling? You like those...”

My mouth drops open. “No... I _don’t_ want to watch the sunset, darling. I guess I want to just pack up and go home so I can get my rocks off. Jesus...” I groan. “Fuuuuck...”

I see you grinning as we get dressed, and pack up the food. When I hear you chuckle, I shake my head at you and smile despite myself. “If I didn’t adore you, I would shove you off this rock - you know that, right? This bike ride is going to feel very different on my balls...”

“The sooner we get home-“ you start to say, smirking.

“The sooner I can murder you in privacy? All right, let’s go.” I grab your hand, and head back to the bike.

We ride back to the dealership and it’s not too long before I’m the proud owner of a Triumph Tiger 800 XC (and the aforementioned biker gear). I manage to forget about my sexual frustration as soon as I peel out of the lot. But once I drive us through the front gate, and figure out how to open the garage to park my bike, I’m dragging you by the arm into the villa.

“Why don’t you make us a couple of drinks while I get ready, my beloved tyrannical prince?” I pull you into a hard kiss, then smile at you indulgently before nudging you out of the bedroom. I scroll through the songs on my phone, laugh as I make a selection and start suiting up.

_Who's a very hungry Tiger then... I grin as I'm manhandled out of the bedroom. I saunter to the kitchen, get you a whiskey and myself a rum and coke, and slowly make my way upstairs again._

_"Are you decent, Tiger?" I call at the closed door._

 

 

"Cool your jets, babe," I shout. "I'll tell you when I'm decent..."

I laugh to myself as I survey myself in the mirror. I won't lie - I had fun getting ready. I know I can move. I know I look hot.

Let's _do_ this.

  
I dim the lights, and head for the walk-in closet.

"Why dont'cha come on in, then,” I call out.

I hear the door swish open, and your quiet footfalls... and then the sound of you sinking into the bed.

I grin as I wait for you to settle and for the song to begin. This is so ridiculous... Luckily, I'm a total show-off when it comes to my body... _especially_ where you're concerned.

I _love_ feeling your eyes on me. This is going to be _sweet_.

 

The opening notes to Chris Isaak's Baby Did a Bad, Bad Thing begin.

I stalk out in my biker jacket, leather trousers, biker boots. I lower my shades slowly and glower at you like the predator I am.

The sulky words begin...

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

 

I wink and smile my killer smile.

_OH..._

_Oh my..._

_*DAAAAAMMNNNN*..._

_Did I - have I - are you - nnnngggh._

_Fucking hell. I think my jaw is on the floor._

_Leather. Tiger. Dancing. Bad thing. Moving. Moving. Oh god those moves - sunglasses. Eyes. Glare. Predatory glare. Oh my *GOD*... Killer smile –_

_It's a good thing I'm sitting down and I have the support of the headboard in my back, because I'm pretty sure my knees have turned to jelly and I'm not sure I wouldn't have swooned._

_Well, there's no question about the getting hard. Whilst the rest of my body is quivering weakly, my cock is showing a *very* keen interest in the proceedings. My brain is set to_ record in high definition _._

_Dear saints in heaven, what did I *ever* do to deserve this..._

_You ever love someone so much you thought your little heart was gonna break in two?_

_I didn't think so_

 

I roll my shoulders, and give you my best manliest pout.

 

_You ever tried with all your heart and soul to get your lover back to you?_

_I want to hope so_

 

I raise my eyebrow and rake my hand through my hair.

 

_You ever pray with all your heart and soul just to watch her walk away?_

 

I turn on my heel and walk away.

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

Facing the other wall, I slowly ease one sleeve of my jacket off...

 

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

 

I look over my shoulder at you... raising my chin, leaning my head back...

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

 

The other sleeve is slowly shrugged off and the jacket slips to the floor...

 

_Feel like crying_

_Feel like crying_

 

I kick the jacket towards you, grinning madly.

 

 

_Oh. My. God._

_I'm transfixed, enchanted, completely entranced by your performance._

_I said I have a thing for bad boys. This - this - you - is the *ultimate* bad boy performance. The song. The outfit. *YOU*. Your - face, your sunglasses, your *lascivious* moves, your looks - so incredibly cocky, sexy, so... *hot*..._

\--record in ultra-high definition and save to hard drive and backup—

_I just want to fall to my knees in rapturous veneration._

_You. Are. Perfect._

_You ever toss and turn you’re lying awake and thinking about the one you love?_

_I don't think so_

 

I turn to face you... reach back slowly over my shoulder to pull my shirt over my head, and throw it at you.

 

_You ever close your eyes you're making believe you're holding the one you're dreaming of?_

_Well if you say so_

 

I run my hands along my chest and down my abdomen...

_It hurts so bad when you finally know just how low, low, low, low, low, she'll go_

 

My hand moves down, down, down, underneath my waistband.

 

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

 

My hand slowly moves over the bulge in my leather trousers.

 

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

 

My hands reappear and I unbutton my trousers... and slowly unzip them...

 

_Baby did a bad bad thing_

_Feel like crying_

_I feel like crying_

 

I slowly bend over, unzip my boots... kick them off... laugh low in my throat when they hit the wall with a thump ... and peel off my socks.

Then I stand facing you... in bare feet, and unzipped leather trousers... I look at you innocently and point towards my waistband. I nod my head questioningly, and manage to keep from laughing as you look like you're going to have a meltdown...

_Your *face*... Your hands moving over that *body*... your hips doing things that should get you arrested... Oh my god why didn't I ever make you do this before?_

Because it's too intense. The combination of music with his moves with your response - too emotional, too playful, too potent... you wouldn't have stood a chance...

_I... oh god there's the most fucking awesome man in the world standing in front of me with *zipped open leather trousers*, looking smug as all hell, so confident, cocksure, oh my god –_

_I loved you before - I was in love with you before - but this is - I'm falling so deep into a - *crush* - like a teenage boy with a celebrity - I'm completely and utterly smitten and blown away by - *everything*, your looks, your moves, your attitude - god Tiger –_

_And you point at your waistband and nod questioningly and *what am I supposed to do*?!_

_Wait - that rose you brought me in its little vase is still on the nightstand –_

_I grab it and throw it at you. I would cheer, but I don't think my voice will obey._

 

 

Unexpectedly, a rose comes flying at me and hits my chest. I look at you in delight, and throw back my head, grinning.

 

_Oh feel like crying_

_Feel like crying_

 

I slowly peel off my trousers, revealing my tiger print briefs that you love.

 

_Oh, feel like crying_

_Feel like crying_

 

the trousers continue to come down and get kicked towards the wall.

As the sultry music returns, I slowly walk around in a circle until I'm facing the wall... the song slowly fades.

 

And the slow, grinding music of T-Rex's 20th Century Boy begins...

_Friends say it's fine_

_Friends say it's good_

_Everybody says it's just like rock and roll_

 

I raise my arms, and sway my hips in a slow circle...

 

_I move like a cat_

_Charge like a ram_

_Sting like a bee_

_Babe I want to be your man_

 

I slowly turn around and point at you.

_Well it's plain to see_

_You were meant for me_

_Yea I'm your boy_

_Your 20th century toy_

 

I move my hands over the tiger-print fabric, and once again one disappears under the waistband...

 

_Friends say it's fine_

_Friends say it's good_

_Everybody says it's just like rock and roll_

_Fly like a plane_

_Drive like a car_

_Bawl like a hound_

_Babe I want to be your man_

My hand moves underneath the fabric and I watch you as I touch myself...

 

_Well it's plain to see_

_You were meant for me_

_Yea I'm your toy_

_Your 20th century boy_

 

I move my hand back up and I slowly move the waistband down, down, down...

_20th century toy_

_I want to be your boy_

_20th century toy_

_I want to be your boy_

_20th century toy_

_I want to be your boy_

_20th century toy_

_I want to be your boy_

 

Slowly, slowly, slowly the briefs come down to reveal my hard cock...

and I shimmy out of them... and throw them over your head, grinning...

  
Then I slowly walk towards you...

_Friends say it's fine_

_Friends say it's good_

_Everybody says it's just like rock and roll_

_Move like a cat_

_Charge like a ram_

_Sting like a bee_

_Oh, babe I want to be your man_

 

I stand before you and slowly sink to my knees...

_Well it's plain to see_

_You were meant for me_

_Yea I'm your toy_

_Your 20th century boy_

 

I slide my knees apart... bring my wrists together in front of me...

_20th century toy_

_I want to be your boy_

 

I raise my hands over my head in a submissive pose...

_20th century toy_

_I want to be your boy_

 

I smile at you seductively as the song rolls to a close...

_20th century boy_

_I want to be your toy_

_20th century boy_

_I want to be your toy_

 

And as the song finishes, I continue to stare up at you from the floor... on my knees... in complete submission.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> Highway to Hell - AC/DC  
> Easy Tiger - Portugal. The Man  
> Love You Inside Out - Bee Gees  
> Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing - Chris Isaak  
> 20th Century Boy - T Rex  
> Striptease - Hawksley Workman


	5. A Fucking Demigod

_Ghjghknlgh..._

_Tiger. Unleashing you was the best thing I've ever done._

_You are so much more creative and talented than I'd ever had you express - because I always kept you restrained, never let your full brilliance out - because I couldn't have resisted you –_

_And I cannot resist you now. Not that I'd want to. God, no._

_I'll give you *anything*, Tiger. But you want me to give you orders. You're sitting on your knees in front of me, your hands over your head, your dance a luscious movement from cocky arrogant bad boy to completely submissive sex slave - but there's no dichotomy, it's both *you*, and you're just too incredibly hot..._

_What to do with my cocky slave? My submissive bad boy?_

_I can't - I really can't. I want to make this perfect for you, the way you made it perfect for me, and I can't read your mind –_

_I pull down my trousers and pants to reveal my cock, pointing desperately in your direction._

_"Well done," I say, my voice managing to not sound too hoarse. "That was magnificent - and you made me hard. Now - I promised, Tiger - anything you want. So tell me."_

 

 

I look at you hungrily from the floor. Anything I want...?

I can't think... I can't take my eyes off your beautiful cock.

"I want - you to suck me off..." I say in a low voice. "But first I want... you..."

I raise myself up on my knees, gazing at you. I grab your hips and pull you forward so you're sitting on the edge of the bed. Then I sink back down towards the floor and slide my lips slowly over your cock.

 

 

_Oh god Tiger no - it’s not fair - I should be doing this for you..._

_But you’re *so* hot and you got me *so* worked up and you’re *so* fucking good at this..._

_I grab your hair, more as a gesture of power than to actually guide you, because you know my cock better than anyone, including me, and you know how to drive me crazy - even more than you already have –_

_Pretty soon you have me squirming and moaning and half-delirious. How do you *do* this?!_

_Anything you want_ , he said... and this is what I choose. It's not even a question...  
God, I just can't stay away from it...  
your beautiful, perfect cock...

If it's in my mouth or in my arse, I'm fucking euphoric.

Like now - I'm sucking you hard, you're moaning deliriously, and it's making me go absolutely mental.

My hands start out pressing hard against your sacrum... and then start sliding under your bottom...

Your fingers tighten in my hair, and _fuck_ that feels good...  
I yank you closer to me, driving your cock deeper into my mouth.

I'm moving you back and forth in my mouth by pushing and pulling your pelvis, my fingers digging into your arse cheeks. Oh god, you feel amazing... you're writhing and moaning even louder and it's so bloody hot...

my beautiful dark prince, show me your desire...

_It's almost painful - almost –_

_You were so incredibly hot just now and I'm so incredibly turned on but I am not sure if I physically *can* –_

_But you don't care, do you, you do the impossible for me all the time..._

_I'm just a slab of meat in your hands, being moved back and forth in that astonishing mouth; I don't need to do anything, it's all being done for me... by my best man, my second in command, my beautiful bad boy..._

_I replay your dance in my mind, with your mouth on my cock, and I groan and spasm and oh god, I'm coming again... You're a miracle, Sebastian, a fucking demigod, a legend..._

_"Seb... god Seb... *fuck* I love you... Please..."_

_Please_... there’s a word I don’t hear very often from my beloved control freak.

I feel aglow with pleasure, pride, power... at the word, at the sensation of your body going into spasm against me, your cock twitching and pouring forth evidence of your desire for me... for the fourth time today, Jesus...

I’ve completely drained you, haven’t I...

You’re whimpering as the last of your orgasm dies away... I clean off your cock with my tongue, then get up so I can wrap you in my embrace and lower you to the bed.

“Mmm. Exactly what I wanted...” I whisper, caressing your face. “And I love you, too. So... was that good for you, Boss?”

 

 

_"You'll be... the death of me..." I pant, lying spent on the bed. "How... just how... you're an incubus... must be... 's why you're so big and strong... suck all the life energy out of innocent victims..._

_Bloody hell."_

_I want to wrap my arm around you but I can't move to save my life._

_"Jesus Seb... Just... that was astonishing. Amazing. Incredible. Words are insufficient. You are... so *unimaginably* hot... You're never going to get out of the house in that biker gear, you realize that? The moment I see it on you I'll have an erection and grab the nearest music system. Also, you'd cause accidents everywhere you go with that arse in black leather..._

_I'm... going to reciprocate... I promise... as soon as I have my strength back... I'm too weak now -" I roll onto my back and flop dramatically._

“Oh, I _know_ you’re going to reciprocate, because I was promised - anything I want.” I grin. “But fine - I suppose I can wait for a bit since you’ve had the life sucked out of you. That was your fourth orgasm today, babe... you rest as long as you need.” I kiss you softly. “I’m so glad you enjoyed my little performance! I really did have something else in mind, with another outfit... but sure, I’ll put on biker gear for you whenever you want...” I laugh. “I’m _SO HAPPY_ I have a bike here, you have no idea! But you never answered my question - do you want one of your own so we can go riding together?”

 

 

_"I can't ride... I'm dead..." I mumble. "Fourth orgasm?! Were you hired by the mafia to literally suck the life out of James Moriarty? Because you're doing a great job..."_

_I consider the idea of buying a bike to ride for fun. I don't really do things for fun. Not simple things like riding a bike anyway. It always had to be so *complex*, to come close to satisfying me. Infinitely intricate puzzle games with Sherly. Nights of endless agony and ecstasy with you. Not things like - watching a film or TV series, cuddling on the sofa. Riding out on bikes, having a picnic near the sea with my love._

_Huh. Of all the feelings I am getting back - I didn't think of *fun*. But - yes, it sounds like fun (_ A waste of time _._ _\- that's what fun *is*!) to ride with you, wind in our hair, freedom all around us... rob a bank, ride away on our bikes, pursued by sirens... maybe not, but it does have a romantic touch to it._

_"Yeah, why not... Let's get me one as well and we can go and do romantic couple stuff on it... Go to the park and feed the ducks... Annoy Hell's Angels and see the looks on their faces when we kill them... Go on long rides through beautiful nature..._

_But I draw the line at camping, Tiger. I'm not going into a tent with you ever again." I shudder exaggeratedly. You'd convinced me *once* that it was so much more practical to camp out near a place than driving back and forth to a decent hotel. You'd made it sound *so* lovely... cosy together in a sleeping bag... birds singing in the morning as you made me coffee..._

_It was cold, itchy, noisy, uncomfortable, and the *bloody* birds kicked off at four AM. And you wouldn't let me shoot all of them._

 

 

"Well, you don't need to worry about me dragging you camping - I may be a masochist but I draw the line at taking you - ever again." I close my eyes. "Oh god... sometimes in the outdoors when it's quiet... I can still hear the whining, Jim... and the whingeing, too..." I open my eyes. laughing. "But everything else you said, definitely. Feeding ducks and picking off bikers - perfect. Let's go test drive a bike you'd prefer, and in the meantime you can ride with me on mine. Which is totally hot, by the way. Speaking of which, have you recovered?"

 

 

_I was wondering when that subject would come up - no pun intended... For a moment I thought you were so taken with the subject of motorbikes that you'd forgotten about your erection - but no worries, you're still my Seb._

_"... I may be..." I grin. You've earned the best blowjob I could possibly give for that performance. And then - blowing me, *again*, before you let yourself be - because you're just so fucking hungry for my cock all the time - I'd better make this good._

_I push you down onto your back, check if you're in a comfortable position, no strain on your neck, then move to that magnificent cock, so eager by now –_

_I lick my way up your shaft, a quick circle around your head, and you're already moaning like I'm strangling you. It would be cruel to tease you longer - I'll go fast and hard so you can *finally* have the orgasm you so deserve - and then maybe another, longer one before bed... you're one behind, after all..._

 

 

"Oh, god... _Jim_..." I groan. "Oh baby, your mouth feels so good..." I suck in my breath and exhale long and hard.

I am _not_ going to last long... I have wanted this for the last... hour? It feels like a century...

I move my hands to the back of your head. I throw my head back as you increase the speed, and I start to keen.

"God, Jim-" I moan loudly as I shudder against you, thrusting into your mouth over and over and over...  
I feel my body going into spasm and suddenly an orgasm is tearing through me... _oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck_...

I'm roaring... gasping for air... laughing with giddiness...

"Oh... holy shit... that was - amazing-" I pant. "Amazing..."  
Your head is popping up beside me, and you're smiling at me. I pull you down against me happily.

"Oh my god, Jim... What a fucking day... You know we're completely insane, right?"

 

 

_"*I* am insane. I've been diagnosed. I didn't give you permission to be insane as well."_

_I lay my head on your shoulder, making sure I don't touch your neck._

_"I'm sorry I grabbed the gun... I really didn't want to shoot you..._

_But - the monitoring app really seemed to piss you off. Do you want me to - I don't know - remove you from it? But - what if you're in trouble? It would help me to be able to check on you... "_

 

 

"And check up on me? I was pissed off because it felt like you didn't trust me. Well, it didn't just _feel_ like it... you must not have trusted me to have been checking it instead of just- asking me point-blank - like,' hey, I saw you got a call and you seemed freaked out. What was that about?' And honestly, I don't know how much detail I would have gone into, if I didn't sense you already knew - because I _know_ my intentions, and I know they're true! I was trying to avoid a massive meltdown, and trying to avoid a fellow soldier getting killed. You had every right to be jealous, I completely understand - but I don't think I did anything disloyal.

 

And... what really pissed me off was the thought that you might have been monitoring me while you were dead. And even when you said you weren't, it was hard to come back from. We talked about a few things today, Jim - but the big one that we didn't get to is you leaving like you did. And- it's not that I want to get into it, I'd avoid it like the plague if I could... But as long as I do, I think there will be resentment brewing and making me act like an arsehole..."

 

I stroke your face. "You don't have to remove me from the monitoring app, if it makes you feel more - secure? But you do know you can trust me, right?"

_"Yes. Yes, I do. But you know how I get sometimes - it wasn't even a conscious decision - I mean it was, but not *rational*. The problem with emotions is that they make rationality fly out the window. And I don't have a lot of experience dealing with emotions, do I..._

_And - I know the moods make you want to protect us from a meltdown, but you just *said* you might not have gone into too much detail - which doesn't help! It's hard - of course I trust you. I *know* I can trust you. But there's always that little side of me that says 'he deserves better, and he's going to get better, and you'll be left alone.' And I *know*, rationally, that that's nonsense - but that doesn't keep me from *feeling* it. And when I think I might lose you - I lose all perspective. It may change, as I get more used to emotions - I hope so - but... it's hard on me. I hope you can understand that. I'm not trying to justify it or anything - just explaining how I feel."_

_I sigh, turn onto my back._

_"As to me leaving you - could we get into that tomorrow or something? I'm really too tired to talk about that now..."_

 

 

"Of course, babe. I didn't mean right now..." I kiss your forehead. "We can talk about it whenever. I just meant, some time..."  
I press my face into your shoulder, wrap an arm around you. "And yes, I do understand about the emotions. I can be a hothead; I get being swept away by feelings and acting irrationally... especially if you think you might lose someone. But you're _not_ going to lose me. I'll tell you a thousand times a day if it helps - there's nowhere else I would want to be but with you. I want to see your adorable face in the morning and at night, and in between - from happy to angry to sad to sexy or silly, I want it all. But do I want to avoid monstrous meltdowns, sometimes? Would I not tell you details so I don't have to deal with your wrath? Yeah, OK - guilty! But you understand that, don't you? I think that's actually pretty standard for marriage... look at us, being normal... The psychopath's version, anyway..."

 

 

_"I don't care about normal. I work on information. And for that, I need to know that my best man gives me *all* the information *all* the time, regardless of him being my husband. Come on Seb - would you accept any of *your* staff omitting information just to make sure you don't get angry?"_

 

 

" _Staff_ , no... But we were talking about information about our personal lives, not work. I _do_ give you all information about work all the time..."

 

 

_"Yes but that's the *problem* - I don't really feel a distinction between personal and work. I'm - me! The Empire is me! Our relationship is me! You are my bodyguard, chief of staff, top assassin, and husband - how do we separate those? When you're killing guys who threaten me, are you being fully bodyguard or also partially husband? When you get a phone call that makes you look upset - how am I to know if that's professional or personal? When I see it's the *guy you kissed* - am I just to go 'oh that's personal, I shouldn't interfere'?! Have you *met* me before??"_

 

 

"Yeah, OK, I get it... So are you going to give me all information all the time as well? I'm not being snarky, I just want to know."

 

 

_"Sure," I say, without hesitation. How could you think I might *not*?_

_But then I recall - the fights - you demanding I let you in on things - me telling you to mind your own business..._

_You going crazy over the Holmes stuff... knowing I was up to *something*, but not able to work out what..._

_Oh Sebastian..._

_but that was *Before*..._

_"Yeah, ok, I don't exactly have a stellar track record on that..." I admit, "but now - I can't imagine hiding anything from you. Fuck, I've shown you my most private demons - there's nothing I wouldn't tell you. Empire - personal - past, present, future - it's all yours my love... everything in my head, my files, my phone - yours for the taking."_

 

 

My eyes widen. "Wow. All right. I won't hide information from you. It's not something I normally do, it was just extremely extenuating and I know it's a sore point for you. I'm sorry it's been so hard and I appreciate your restraint... Hey, we forgot about our drinks. You want?"

I reach over and grab my whisky from the nightstand.

 

_"Yes please," I rise up to take mine. "Though I think I can be forgiven for forgetting *all about it* the moment you entered the room. Bloody hell, Tiger... that was the hottest thing I've ever seen, no doubt about it. I wish I'd recorded it. It's on the cerebral hard drive though. Indelible. I'll forget my own name before I forget *that*. Wow."_

_I drink my rum and coke, warm by now, but who cares._

 

 

I look at you as I drink from my glass. “Glad you liked it...” I purr. “I have images burned into my mind of you touching yourself... and stripping... _fuck_... it’s so intense. And I can’t even touch myself when I think about it... but then we’ve been having sex around the clock lately, so I have no cause for complaint. Although _someone_ gets a kick out of making me wait for it sometimes.. or threatening that I’ll have to go without. My sweet, dominating prince...”

 

 

_"Mmm? I didn't hear any complaints... You know what - we could maybe - I know, it's a weird concept, but hear me out - not have a talk about difficult stuff tomorrow - I know, I know, inconceivable, but we could talk maybe the day *after*. And tomorrow..." I look at you, assessingly - will you be up for this? Damn this whole 'you get a say too' lark - it's seriously cramping my style. "If you're up for it, that is, and I totally get if you're not, no problem there..." Oh come on Moriarty, stop being fucking *shy*... "But I'd like to have a full day of domination. Just - you being in full slave mode all day. Doing as I say. Asking permission for whatever you do. Not wearing clothes. Sitting on your knees at my feet, unless instructed otherwise."_

_I look at you. "I - I'll understand if that's too soon. It's just - it seems hot to me. And we *are* supposed to be on sex holiday, as well as therapeutic retreat."_

 

 

I chuckle. “Oh... _Oh_.. Jim. It’s not too soon, and it sounds... intriguing.”

And possibly will help you re-establish a sense of control... and reclaim your territory after someone tried to claim it for themselves? I don’t say this, but if it will help you feel more calm and confident about us, I’m all for it.  
“When am I not into doing something kinky? Look who you’re asking... And I assume I should do as fucking told or there will be hell to pay? I’ll have to get all my snarkiness out tonight so I can be well-behaved in the morning, babe... I’m not going to lie, it sounds fucking hot.”

 

 

_Good!_

_My eyes light up. "Oh, there will be hell to pay regardless..." I purr, stroking your arm. "Sure, honeypie, you get your snarky wit out tonight. Can't wait..." I wink._

_"Whilst you're thinking of a smart comeback, shall we watch some more Game of Thrones? We have to be able to get at least two episodes in before you've got one. Oi! Violence is not snark."_

 

 

"Isn't it? My bad..." I sit up, grinning. "Yes to Game of Thrones! Only we'll have to watch it in the living room or the guest room because the bedroom TV mysteriously fell out the window... Jesus, the cleaning staff must think we're escaped mental patients by now. I think we were on episode eight? Do you want another drink, or something to snack on?"

 

 

_"Rock stars, maybe? Didn't they use to thrash hotel rooms and stuff in the seventies? Didn't realize they all had complex relationships with their bodyguards, but it makes sense. No snacks for me, but I'll have another drink. You pour the drinks, I set up the TV?"_

_Together we walk downstairs, you to the kitchen, I to the living room. I'm glad Game of Thrones was on some pay channel rather than a DVD - I'm not sure whatever DVD was in the player will have survived the fall._

_We snuggle up on the sofa and watch Tyrion and Bronn meet a man called Shagga, which makes us giggle like schoolboys._

_"So - who would you shag in this world?" I ask, "Promise I won't get all jealous! Just wondering..."_

 

 

I look at you cautiously. "Umm... I don't know how to answer this question. Are we talking pre-Jim Sebastian who fucked anything that moved, according to you? Or some kind of alternate-universe Sebastian who was looking for a special someone and being more selective?"

 

 

_"Eh - well, pre-Jim Sebastian would have worked his way through the characters in alphabetical order... though probably skipping Arya Stark," I say when I realize who the second person whose name starts with A is. "Sorry, what I meant is - if you *only* could choose *one* person to shag, who would it be?"_

 

 

"Oh, _one_ person! Well, I think you can already guess... you were annoyed I was mentioning him so much. I suppose I'd ask a certain Khal out for a ride, and see where it went..." I smile at you, watching your face. "Who would you shag?"

 

_“Not who you’d expect - Bronn.” You look at me eyebrows raised - yeah, if you’d choose Khal Drogo, Bronn may seem like a bit of an odd choice. “He’s snarky and mercenary - I like that in a man,” I grin._

 

 

"I can see it," I grin back at you. "He's hot, knows how to handle a sword, he's sarcastic as hell... what's not to like?"

 

_"I know right," I grin. Look at me being all mature - I'm not getting pissed off at you choosing the one person in the series who looks *least* like me. I'm still insecure about my looks, but - here, now, cuddly and warm and lovey - you look at me with those big loving blue eyes and I know I'm your world - the Moon of your life as well as your Sun and Stars, and all the rest of your universe._

_That made me wonder though- "Can you use a sword?"_

 

 

"I can fence... I _did_ learn how to use a broadsword quite a while back. When I was younger and reading a lot of fantasy..." I look at you, waiting to be teased - but you only look intrigued. "Maybe I should pick it up again... Get a sword collection and practice on the beach..."

 

 

_“You could teach me - though I don’t really see the point in this age of guns. ‘Have at thee, Sir!’ - ‘Blam.’ Game over. Though my romantic side thinks it would be rather hot to see you waving a sword about on the beach with no shirt on, working up a sweat... Hmmm...”_

 

 

"The point is it’s awesome... Besides, you’ll use a different part of your brain - I know you love adding new neural pathways. It's great for coordination, speed, conditioning... and it gives you amazing arms."

You already have the sexiest arms... if they get better, I'll be even more powerless against your charms...  
"And you never know when the skill will come in handy. You're in a fight with no gun, grab something you can use like a sword - they'll never see it coming. Finally, it's awesome... if you learn, we could fight on the beach. I think you'd be really good at it."

 

_You do know how to make stuff sound attractive - it might be a good new way to stay in shape. I notice I am getting a bit flabbier quicker now I'm getting older. And the thought of clashing swords with a dashing knight on the beach does appeal. And finally, coordination, speed, and conditioning are all good to stay on top of. We do unarmed combat and knife fighting - sword fighting seems a bit pointless compared to that - but it could be part of this new experiment of doing things for *fun*._

_"Grab something you can use like a sword? Like *what*? But you've convinced me, Tiger - let's buy some swords."_

_Game of Thrones paused appropriately where Syrio is being awesome yet overwhelmed, we shop around on my phone, with you pointing out the pros and cons of different types of swords. After some deliberation, we decide on mortuary swords, because I love the name and you know how to fight with the things, and a pair of bastard swords, because you claim they are easiest to learn to use. We also get some plastic practice swords - it's probably not a good idea to go all a-clashing straightaway._

_I'm all excited now._

 

"There are a few things that could act as a sword, by the way - pool cues, if you happen to find yourself in a bar fight for instance? Distract them with a few moves and then jam the pointy end under their jaw. Or through their eye. Hell, if you were really in a bind, you could pull down a rod from a curtain... or a shower curtain. Not if there's a gunfight happening, obviously - but it's just one more skill to have at your disposal if you happen to find yourself without a weapon."

 

I grin as I watch you add the sword selections to our order. Your eyes are lit up and you seem riveted. I can't wait until they arrive and you're good enough for us to be bashing at each other with swords. We obviously need regular fighting practice to get our aggression out, as well as staying in peak condition... I'm all for going mental on occasion and just brawling, but now that guns have entered the picture... channelling some of our rage is probably a good idea.

 

You submit the order and look at me with elation. I laugh.  
"Awesome. I can't wait to teach you, and I can't wait to fight. You are going to look so hot with a sword, babe..."

 

 

_“I’m just hopping to the loo - I’ll be back in a sec.” I kiss you and go to the bathroom with my phone. There’s something else I’ve been meaning to get, but I don’t want you to see._

_Both this and the swords will arrive tomorrow._

_I get back into the bedroom and we watch some more Game of Thrones - look shocked at the end of episode nine._

_“Well. That was - huh. I like George RR. He’s just as fond of killing people as we are.”_

 

 

I look back at you, wide-eyed. “Wow. Yeah. I was sure they were going to do some kind of daring rescue... Guess not.” I lean back against the sofa cushions. “I do not like what’s happening in that tent... Why is Daenerys trusting that lady? They won’t kill so many good characters so soon, will they?” I stare at the rolling credits, and chew my lip.

 

 

_"It's a lot like life - good characters die as easily as bad ones," I grin. "Final episode then sleeps? So… -  who would you say is most like me in this?" I'm hoping you'll not say Joffrey..._

 

 

"Oh, wow... that's a tough one. There isn't anyone who jumps out at me, to be honest...

If you took the cunning, intelligence and ruthlessness of Petyr Baelish, and added the sex appeal, ambitions and aggression of Khal Drogo... you still wouldn't come close to the force of nature that is James Moriarty... and I am _not_ blowing smoke up your arse. There's just no comparison of _anyone_ to you. So I didn't give you what you asked for, but now you have to do the same for me. Who am I most like?"

 

 

_"Oh you're too sweet to be true!"_

_I mean it. That did really make me feel quite pleased._

_"I'm not sure... I think - Jorah Mormont... exiled from what you thought your life was going to be, then finding someone entirely unexpectedly and falling for them, being loyal even though you know it's hopeless... Or maybe the Hound, best fighter in the realms, loyal servant to a cruel little shit," I grin._

 

 

"Yeah, I can see it... although that would make you either Joffrey or Daenerys, which is pretty fucking funny. In this scenario you're either a petulant psycho or a very pretty dragon queen." I laugh into your shoulder. "Well at least I'm not Jaime Lannister, since I’m a bodyguard, too. That would have made you Cersei..." I dodge your hand flying at my shoulder, and snicker. "All right, Moon of my Life... let's see the final episode. If I'm going to spend a full day in submission to your whims, I'll need a good night's sleep..."

 

 

_"*Like* I am ever whimsical," I bristle. "Jamie's a rubbish bodyguard - both kings he's been guarding have died. You'd never let that happen."_

_We watch the final episode, cheering at Daenerys' triumph. "Sebbie - I want a dragon for my birthday," I purr. You imitate the dragon's tiny roar - "Alright; maybe a Tiger is better..."_

 

Damn. I didn't expect Khal Drogo to die, and we've been calling each other his and Daenerys's pet names. A shiver moves through me - I'm just too close to you having been dead for a year, and me having been stabbed (and almost shot) for this to not affect me. But it's been an intense day for both of us, and we've ended with such an amazing evening... and you clearly need a break from talking (!!!).... so the _last_ thing I want to do is put a damper on the evening. When we talk about you faking your death, I'll cry about this then.

 

For now, I kiss your lips softly and gaze into your eyes. "I'll see what I can do about a dragon. Time for bed, babe?"

 

 

_Right, time for bed... Let's have a chat..._

_"Of course I can't wake up with you in my bed tomorrow..." I smile. "Sharing my bed is a privilege you may or may not earn in the course of the day. Now - I want a few ground rules set..."_

_I take your jaw, look at you earnestly. "I love you. I love you more than life itself. And I want you to be happy - all the time. So if you're not absolutely ecstatic with everything that happens - you tell me, OK?_

_This is not some martyr's cause - it's a day of enjoyment for both of us. I know what I enjoy, and I have some inkling of what you enjoy - but I want to be able to experiment and try out things that we may both enjoy - or we may not. If I find I don't like it - I'll blow it off, no biggie. And I want you to do the *exact* same, right Tiger? This is in no way a return to what things were like - it's exploring new avenues for us both._

_Does that make sense to you?"_

 

 

Well, things have definitely changed... It appears my dark prince is an angel, after all...

I place my hand against yours. “Yes. And I assumed so, but thank you for saying it. I’m very open to trying things out... as you know... But I do like that you welcome hearing how I feel if I don’t like something. I love you to the moon and back - and I’m so looking forward to this.” I lean in and kiss you, and place my other hand on your cheek.

“So - you want me to sleep in another room? Wake up early and leave? Tell me, and I’ll do it...” I kiss you again longingly.

 

_"Calm down, my love, I haven't finished yet... there are some more rules," I grin. I'm glad you're so eager to do this - I am keen to explore our power dynamic in an equal setting. Part of me says I'm being delusional - it's impossible to both have power over you and have you as an equal partner, it's a direct contradiction - but we seem to have pulled it off before, and you're amazing, and I want you to be my equal yet my slave. And what I want happens... usually._

_"You're not restrained from speaking. You can say what you want, no need to ask permission. But you will do it in a respectful way, or face the consequences. Alright?"_

_You nod._

_"And again - I love you so incredibly much. Anything you're not comfortable with, or you'd like to discuss further - say it. You can call for a time-out any time. OK my love?"_

_You nod again, smiling indulgently now. Yeah yeah - I need to be sure, alright? You're not the one who is afraid of hurting your husband._

_"And - if *anything* *at any point* hurts your neck - you call quits straightaway. That's an order._

_Right. You're sleeping on the floor - there's a sheepskin rug next to the bed, and I'll give you a pillow and a blanket. Go to the loo now, because I'm going to chain you to the bed."_

 

 

Oh... _OH_ … you mean business...  
"Shit... so we're starting now. OK..." I look at you cautiously, give you a long, sweet kiss, and head to the bathroom.  
  
I take a piss.  
I brush my teeth.  
I look at myself in the mirror.  
I have absolutely no idea what to expect... except the unexpected. I can't help feeling like you were up to something when you were ordering swords... but what?  
_sigh_  
Can I do this? Be fully submissive _all day_?  
I lean towards the mirror and stare into my eyes.  
_Yes_. Because I'm not doing this just for you - as much as I love to please you.  
A significant part of me is thrilled at your desire to do this... and this is something I want to explore with you - and at your hands...  
Take me further into the darkness, Jim...  
I want to go deeper into the realm of my dark prince...  
  
I return to the bedroom and wait by the bed. You hold out a pillow and blanket to me, and I take them before lying down naked on the sheepskin rug. I gaze up at you, and wait to receive your chains.

 

_So. Incredibly. Beautiful._

_So. Fucking. Powerful._

_And all mine._

_It really is like having an actual tiger under my spell. It's incredible, it's impossible, but it's true. Here you are, this taut bundle of strength, power, grace, brains, and beauty, and it's all mine. You will protect me, serve me, love me, obey me._

_Me._

_I don't think I'll ever be able to express how incredible that feels. How empowering. How giddifying. With you at my feet I truly *am* an emperor, like one of those paintings of rulers with tigers chained at their feet. I didn't realize quite how significant that tiger was - thought it was just an exotic pet - it's not. It's pure strength, and if one can bend that to one's will, one must be a mighty ruler indeed._

_Often those rulers have scantily-clad women kneeling at their feet as well - but I have both tiger and sex toy in one incredibly attractive package. I am the most mighty ruler in the world, and the world better watch out. When I'm back - I will be invincible._

_*Mine*._

_I think that will be the mantra of the day..._

_I go to the cupboard, get out a pair of shackles, put one round a leg of the bed, one round your ankle._

_I crawl up to your face, stroke it, kiss your lips._

_"That's it Tiger... you won't be restrained in your sleep, I don't want you to be uncomfortable... you'll need your strength for the morning. I just want you to feel that gentle hold on your ankle at all time... reminding you that you're mine. Chained to my bed. Awaiting my pleasure."_

_I kiss you deeply._

_"Sleep well, my love... my slave... my husband. I love you."_

 

"My husband... my master... my lord... I love you, too." I murmur, and close my eyes as you kiss me again.

When I open them again, you're crawling into bed and pulling up the covers. Then you gaze at me for a moment and turn out the light.

Hm. Well, this is not how I expected this rollercoaster of a day to end... but it seems strangely fitting. I curl up on the sheepskin rug, stretch out my foot, roll my ankle. Is it weird that this doesn't feel uncomfortable or unnatural? I could do this for _no one else_... but when shackles are placed on me by you, I feel... comforted... desired… _yours_.

I think of tomorrow and grin. It's going to be a hell of an interesting day.

 _YOURS_...

My heart glows and I close my eyes.

 

_The downside to this plan is that I don’t have your arms around me. But somehow the thought of you obediently lying on the floor, *chained* to my *bed*, makes me quite warm. Very warm._

_“I love you, my Tiger,” I whisper into the dark._

_I fall asleep immediately._

 

 

I dream of a beautiful emperor with jet-black hair...

a throne on a dais...

ruby-red wine splashing into a golden chalice, snow-white ostrich feathers slowly fanning the air, crimson blood spilling from prisoners and splashing on the marble floor...

and a tiger in chains, snarling at everyone but him...

the emperor rubs the tiger's head and cheek, the tiger chuffs and nuzzles his hand...

the tiger slowly becomes part man and nuzzles his face...

the emperor pulls the tiger-man, still in chains, onto his lap on the throne...

they writhe against each other, moaning...

My eyes snap open, and I look around in confusion.

Floor. Shackled. Day of Domination.

Was I - moaning?  
Suddenly I realize I've been stroking my cock, and I pull my hand away quickly.

Fuck. Well, it was in my sleep... doesn't count, right? _Right?_

Yeah. Because you're _so_ concerned about being reasonable and fair on an average day. You're sure to be understanding on D-Day when you've got me on a chain and completely at your mercy.

Did you see anything? Hear anything? I crane my neck up to take a peek.

 

 

_I hear a moan - a Tiger moan. That's not right. Tiger is not supposed to moan if I'm not involved..._

_I startle awake - are you hurting?! Do you need help?!_

_No - that wasn't a pain moan - and - are you *touching yourself*!?_

_I peek over the edge of the bed - oh bless you, you're dreaming... of me, by the looks of it... it better be of me, at least... I frown._

_You wake up, and I pull back. I hear you pull your hand away quickly. Aw._

_I move my head back, and see yours rise, meeting my eyes. Even in the dark I can see your face go red. "Pleasant dream, Tiger? Why don't you tell me *all* about it...?"_

 

 

"Um... 'Morning, Sir... my dream was -"

I stop to think.

"It's a bit hazy, but- there was an emperor in a throne room, and a tiger... and the tiger turned into a man and they started to fuck on the throne, and it was really hot," I finish in a rush. "I guess you saw it was really hot? I'm sorry, I was doing it in my sleep..."

 

 

_I smile at that. So I wasn't the only one who saw that parallel?_

_"So I saw, Tiger... unfortunately, as a proper soldier, you need to be able to keep your control even when asleep. It's fine - it just means you need more conditioning."_

_I get up, go to the cupboard. "Kneel by the side of the bed."_

_I get back on the bed, to see you kneeling submissively, looking up at me, and my heart beats out an interesting rhythm. "Put your right hand on your cock, and your left on the bed, palm up."_

_I raise the leather strap I got out of our bag, whip it down on your hand._

 

 

Of _course_ I'm going to be punished... I manage to keep from smirking - I've got to be _so_ extra-careful today...

Because I know I'm in for it regardless... but if I come across as even the least bit sarcastic or smug... _oh_. Christ knows what you have planned for me...

Oh, fuck... is that for my hand or...?

The strap comes down hard. On my hand, but _fuck_ , that stings...

 

_I see your face flicker - you didn't think I was going to strap your *cock*, did you? Never - I'm always very careful with your cock. Well. Except when I'm not. But. No, you have been a good boy - my beautiful Tiger..._

_"Can you keep your right hand still when I slap your left?" I ask, bringing the leather down again. Of course you can't - but you're trying, which is sweet. A third slap - you screw your eyes shut, your right hand trembles again. "Maybe I should keep on slapping until you manage it?" I muse. You look at me sceptically - yeah OK even I wouldn't be so cruel. Well - I would - but not with you._

_A fourth and fifth - that's enough._

_"Now put your left hand on your cock and give me your right," I say. I look at your cock - it seems not in the least disheartened by the proceedings._

 

 

By the third slap, my hand is stinging. By the fifth, it's throbbing with bright pain, but that doesn't stop my cock from remaining hard and at attention.

On to the next hand...  
Oh, Jesus... we've only gotten started...

Oh, _God_ , you get me hot...

My sore hand feels good against my cock. You told me to put it there... I can't be blamed for enjoying it.

 

 

_Your face is *so* beautiful when you're like this. Rapture within pain... It's like I can see within your soul and it's on fire, so alive, so aflame with passion and desire and agony - oh god Tiger. I was just going to whip you and go back to sleep, but... orgasms are conducive to a good night's sleep, aren't they?_

_I whip your right hand. You try to keep still, but flinching is inevitable. Your cock seems to get harder with every lash. You open your eyes after the fifth one - god, those blue eyes are on fire, even in this dark night they shine with an inner light. I slap again - your eyes widen. "This was the hand that was on your cock, so this is the hand that needs most discouragement," I explain as I lash again._

 

 

Amidst bright flashes of pain, I realize - my hand wants to move on my cock... oh god, it wants to move... I have to keep -  it - still-

I used to be so much better at discipline, maybe because I was a lot closer to my army days... or maybe because I was so controlled around you.

But you have such an _intense_ effect on me... and this combination of pain and desire is so good, and so fucking hard to resist... oh god, this is such sweet torture... how am I going to get through this day??

 

 

_I see your fingers twitch - yeah, you and me both, Sebbie._

_I give you three more lashes, just to see your face contort, your body shiver, hear a delicious moan escaping your lips._

_Though I briefly considered to make you wait until morning, I'm not that cruel. It's not like you won't be up and raring to go again by then._

_I sit down on the edge of the bed, grasp my fingers in your hair, pull your head back, lean my face over yours._

_"Right hand on your cock, gets you off. Left hand and mouth on my cock, get me off. Remember that I come first..."_

_I sit back up, push your head into my crotch, lean back onto the bed._

 

Oh, thank Christ... any prolonged sexual desire will be way easier to take if I’ve already come once today...

I switch hands, making sure to start working on you first. My mouth sinks onto your perfect cock, and I exhale as I do. What is it about pain that heightens pleasure so exquisitely? Sounds of pleasure are rumbling deep in my throat as my hand strokes my cock... as my mouth teases yours...

 

 

_My beloved Tiger... your mouth on my cock, small moans in your throat as you get to work - always so keen, but never quite as ardent as after a punishment. There's something about pain that just makes you - that much more eager to please, to make me happy, to pleasure me - and as it also gets me *so incredibly hot* to inflict pain upon you, to see your body and your face respond... we're a match made in... well, probably hell._

_I breathe out with a shudder, remove my hand from your hair. I'm in great hands - let you do what you do best, no need for instructions from my side._

 

I don’t often have permission to pleasure myself as I blow you, and I am going to enjoy the fuck out of this... Knowing my hand touching my cock is something that’s only decided by you makes it feel that much more intense. Every stroke is like magic... but I can’t get too carried away. I have to make you come first... my bossy, dominating man... my hot little tyrant... my gorgeous murderous husband...

Oh fuck, you get me so hot...

I hold firmly onto the base of your cock, moving my hand rhythmically as my head moves up and down... up and down... my mouth suctions harder, and I hear you groan. Yes, baby... _yes_...

 

_Part of my mind is idly musing exactly *what* you are best at. Assassination? Sniping? Blow jobs? Fucking?_

_... stripping? That thought makes my mouth water as I replay the scene from last night. Bloody hell - that's definitely going to feature today. Wow. I moan, and you enhance your efforts, making me moan more..._

_I sit back up, looking at you on your knees, your mouth on my cock, fully engrossed in what you're doing, your own hand on your cock, gentle strokes, moving in the same rhythm as your head..._

_*Your head! Fuck!*_

_"Tiger!" I call out. Your head comes up, shocked at the tone of my voice. "Tiger... you shouldn't be straining your neck..."_

 

 

I move my right hand to my neck. “Feels fine, Sir...” I catch your expression and remove my hand. “But... thank you for the reminder. I won’t move my head so much. Sir.”

I return my mouth to your cock, and keep the motions of my head to a minimum while increasing the length of my strokes.

Soon, you’re moaning, shivering, shaking... and as I see your head fly back and your back arch, I finally stroke my own cock hard and fast. As you’re collapsing against the bed, I continue to lick and suck every bit of your seed from you. And then I’m groaning loudly, and shooting into my hand and onto my abdomen. Panting, I sit back on my heels.

“Permission to - get a tissue, Sir?” I ask, breathing hard.

 

_I should stop you... should get some other setup or something... but you are sucking again and moving your head less and surely you know if it's bad for you or not?_

_And soon I can't think of anything but your mouth on my cock, except that striptease last night and the way you looked when I whipped you earlier and *god*... and you don't relent, you keep going, making me shudder, moan, *mewl* as you suck every last drop from me. As I lie on the bed, wide-eyed, panting, trying to get my wits back from wherever in outer space they are floating, I hear your groans as you yourself reach your climax._

_What - a tissue? Sure - "Granted," I pant._

_Soon I am going to have to do... something... take initiative..._

_I take the bottle of water, guzzle some down._

_Wow. That was - wow._

_I lean over, looking at you cleaning yourself and aiming the used tissue straight into the middle of the bedroom wastepaper basket._

_I scoot over, still lying on the bed, grab in the general direction of your head, catch a lock of hair, pull you towards me. We kiss, passionately, lovingly. "My beautiful, wonderful Tiger..."_

_When I finally have enough strength to get vertical, I take a pair of handcuffs from the bag. Padded - it won't be uncomfortable for sleeping with._

_"I don't *think* you'd make that same mistake again, my love, but it's better to be safe - wouldn't want to have to whip your hands again," I say, as I kiss your welted palms. "Now - lie down, get comfortable-"_

_You lie with your head on the pillow, pull up the blanket. "Is that ok?" I ask. You nod._

_I put a cuff on your right hand, pull the chain round the rail under the edge of the bed, put the other cuff on your left. There. That should allow you to sleep reasonably comfortable, but still keep your hands safely away from danger areas._

_I kneel over you, kiss you, check if your neck is supported properly by the pillow - it seems to be alright._

_"Now, if this gets uncomfortable for your neck, you *will* wake me up, or face my wrath, alright?"_

 

 

“I will... and thank you for caring for my wellbeing, Sir...” I say softly. I have to be so careful with my tone- everything I say has the potential to sound sarcastic; it’s like breathing for me. But you don’t seem concerned about it, you just lean down and kiss me tenderly. You pull the blanket up over me, fuss a bit more, and then you return to bed.

Once again I’m on the floor chained to a bed, but this time with even less freedom. Wow... everything has consequences today, I remind myself. I chuckle very quietly, and close my eyes.

 

_You seem to think this is funny - sure Tiger, whatever..._

_I'm already half asleep when my head hits the pillow. Wow. That was one good orgasm. And the day hasn't even started._

_I dream that Nurse Rozetta is shagging Alice Cooper in our bedroom, and for some reason you can't shoot them no matter how we both want you to. We have to hide behind the kitchen block because if Alice sees us, he'll be mad._

_This then morphs into a book I'm reading about dragons and knights, and then we find ourselves in the book, riding horses, but your horse is black and fast and I have some kind of light grey pony that can't keep up with you. I keep shouting at you to slow down, but at some point you've had enough and get further and further away and the pony does her best but she's exhausted - but then there's a dragon and I decide to ride that. I'm soaring through the skies, seeing you riding on the land below, and you see me and wave up at me, happily, and the dragon and I fly through the clouds, faster and faster, and I'm squeeing with delight - but when we turn back to the earth it's all dark - like it's been burnt - and I can't see you anywhere. We swoop around, but all I see are burnt lands, destroyed villages, not a sign of life... I shout your name, but the silence is deafening. I remember that it's a book, it's not real, but I can't seem to drag myself out of it…_

_When I wake, it's pre-dawn. I move to the edge of the bed, and feel relieved when I see you sleeping peacefully. I want to crawl into your arms, but that's not what we're doing today... I'm glad we don't do this every day. It's bloody hot, but - I could never give up that closeness that we have built up in the past few days. My Tiger..._

_I drift off again, this time into a sleep without dreams._

 


	6. A Beautiful Day in Mexico

I awake with a raging hard-on... oh god. Of course. It’s not enough that I had an amazing orgasm... when? I have no idea what time it is, but it’s light outside. I hope you’ll wake up soon, because I could use a trip to the loo - and I don’t really want to call to you and wake you up before you’re ready.

I yawn loudly and listen for sounds of stirring. Silence.

I sigh and close my eyes again. Just as I’m drifting off, I hear you shift your position and sniff.

Are you awake, Boss? I’m more than ready for our Day of Domination to begin...

 

 

_It's a beautiful day in Mexico - but there's no Tiger - where is Tiger? Oh wait - a smile creeps onto my face. I roll to the side of the bed, to see you look up at me. "Good morning, Tiger..." I murmur._

 

 

I gaze up at you. “Good morning, Sir...” I say softly. Seeing your beautiful face makes me feel aglow.

It was harder than I realized it would be not being able to see you or touch you.

One night sleeping a few feet away from you, and I already miss you...

 

 

_Sleepily I lean down, unlock the cuffs, move down to the foot of the bed and unchain your ankle. Then I let myself slide off the bed and onto your lap. You sit up to fold your arms around me, and I feel your erection poking into my abdomen. Hmmm, this is already having its effect on you, isn't it, Tiger? We kiss, slowly, lazily. With hunger, but also with the patience of men who know that they have all day to enjoy each other. "Did you sleep well, my Tiger? Why don't you go use the bathroom first, then go and make me breakfast... same procedure as the other day." I get off you and let myself fall back onto the bed._

 

 

"I slept fine, Sir. It was surprisingly comfortable." I grin at you, and get up to go to the bathroom. When I come out, you're still lazing in bed, looking thoughtful.

I go to the door and stop to look back at you. "I missed you..." I say softly.

Then I head to the kitchen, and prepare breakfast. Of course I think back to the last time I did this, and how much has happened since then. God, the last few days have been mental. This entire week has been mental. And yet I find myself singing as I prepare a full English breakfast. Marvin Gaye's Let's Get It On has been pouring from my lips before I even realize it.

The coffee machine nearly goes through the window, but I eventually manage to hit enough buttons that something resembling coffee pours out of it. By this time I'm onto singing the Four Tops’ Can't Help Myself.

I eat a breakfast sandwich and drink coffee as I prepare your tray. Another glass with a rose. And then I'm on my way up, and appearing at the bedroom door. You're sitting on the bed, grinning at me.

"Breakfast, Sir," I say with a smile, and kneel at your feet.

 

 

 

_Oh my *Tigger*. I missed you too. I don't want to sleep without your warm arms around me no never no more. But - it was damn hot. I could chain you to the bed while you're *in* it, I suppose..._

_I have a piss, a shower, brush my teeth, then plonk back onto the bed. I hear you singing downstairs - singing?! Oh dear - are we finally going to have that lovely quiet day we've been trying for? Well, maybe not quiet... there are *so many things* I want to try... my Tiger, my love, my husband... mine, mine, mine... there's nothing like seeing you look up at me full of devotion on your knees to make me feel on top of the world._

_You come up with a lovely tray full of breakfast - including another rose - *and* a proper cup of coffee rather than the instant I got last time. Seems like you finally managed to conquer the coffee maker. I grin at you. You kneel at my feet, holding up the tray._

_Oh god._

_"If there is a better way to start the day, I haven't discovered it yet..." I purr, then get to work on my breakfast. It's delicious - a bit much for me, you're always trying to feed me up, but very tasty. "There's nothing that tastes quite as good as a breakfast prepared with love and served by a naked man on his knees," I decide. "I may have to patent this..."_

_You smile up at me as you hold my tray, as relaxed as if you had not been holding it up at head height for the past twenty minutes. My strong soldier..._

 

 

It’s not that I don’t feel it... the tray is registering as damn heavy by the time you’re done. And my muscles are yelling at me that they need a break _now_. But you don’t get as far as I did in a military career without knowing how to handle pain and muscle fatigue. Mission: make Jim feel powerful, worshipped, amazing, desired... Is this pain and fatigue relevant to the mission? No. Then shove it in a compartment, soldier. I have a beautiful emperor before me to adore...

 

 

_“That will do, my love... take it downstairs and clean it up, then put the umbrella over the beach chairs. I will make us both another coffee. We will have it on the beach.”_

_It’s not that I don’t trust your coffee making skills... but that was weaker than a politician’s excuses. I’ll need something stronger than that to wake up._

_You may be my slave, but you’re my bodyguard first - before you head downstairs, you put on a holster with a gun, nothing else. Which is really quite hot, actually..._

_I fix us both a decent cup as you move the umbrella, then come back to carry the cups._

_I sink into the beach chair, you hand me my coffee, remain standing holding your own. Excellent, Tiger..._

_I nod at the beach in front of the chair, and you sink down at my feet._

_Oh beautiful... I *am* like one of those exotic emperors now... My smile glows._

_“Enjoy your coffee, my Tiger...”_

 

 

It might have been just an ordinary day, sitting on the private beach of our villa. The sun on my skin, warming my muscles. Enjoying a coffee with my husband in the morning. Looking forward to spending the day together.

Only... it is most certainly _not_ an ordinary day. I have no idea what you have in store for me. But for now I enjoy how much I imagine you’re enjoying yourself - you definitely look like the cat that got the cream.

Aww... my beautiful, beloved tyrant. I’m happy to oblige you and be the Tiger at your feet. This makes me remember my dream and then I have to stop thinking of my dream immediately. Or I’ll imagine you mounting me on a golden throne, and... nope. _Stop thinking, Tiger_!

 

 

_My fingers play in your hair as we sip our coffee, watching the sea, enjoying the lovely morning. Of course it's a lovely morning... but it also got off to quite an extraordinary start, with no nightmares, no meltdowns, no fights, no murders... we should do this more often._

_I ponder the many, many things I could do with you... the ones I know you like... the ones I know you dislike, but like when in the right frame of mind... the ones I've never tried, because I needed to maintain a status quo between us that it didn't fit into... but today, the sky is the limit. And my cock is keen for its morning release. It snootily informs me that midnight blowjobs don't count. Alright then..._

_"Get to the bedroom and get a pair of handcuffs and a whip, Tiger. You can choose which one you want to feel."_

 

 

Here we go!

I get up, lower my head.

“As Sir wishes...” I breathe, then stand up holding your gaze, and walk away.

Holy fuck... this is so different than I was expecting...

Any domination we did in the past did not include love - at least, not anything that was expressed.

What’s between us now is taking it to a whole other level...

I go inside, head upstairs and into the walk-in closet where all the equipment you brought resides. I select leather cuffs and a flogger - we have a full day ahead of us, so starting with moderate pain gives us a good baseline so you can get more cruel as the day unfolds.

My Kitten can be vicious, but I love love love to be helpless under his power and at his mercy...

I return with the cuffs and flogger and hand them to you reverently.

 

 

_Your gaze just before you walk off... enough electricity to power a small city. I sit back into my chair, put the empty cup onto the sand._

_You return promptly, leather cuffs and a flogger. Ah, starting mild, are we, Tiger? No worries - I can still inflict quite a bit of pain with this, as you know all too well. But you're right - the day is young, and I wouldn't want to hurt you too much too soon. Your face as you look at me while handing over the implement - my cock twitches in my shorts. God - we're already in high voltage territory._

_I get up, remove your holster and gun, put them next to the chair, then move you to one of our useful palm trees. Really - I don't know why we didn't have palm trees in London, they're great._

_Before I chain you up, I wrap my arms around you, kiss you. You momentarily stand still, unsure of whether you're allowed to touch - silly Tiger, of course I want your arms around me... "You can touch," I whisper, and you do, and we stand there, kissing, holding each other in the morning sun, and it feels like our hearts are melting into each other. We're in a golden cocoon of warmth, pouring around us, through us, from you into me, from me into you, and it's so beautiful and loving and healing..._

_I don't know how long we stand there, but by the time I step back from our embrace, I feel warm and sunny throughout. It's like I carry a portion of your golden energy in my heart, and part of me resides safely in yours._

_Wordlessly, I lead your arms around the tree, kiss the palms of your hands - I should put some cream on them later, they're a bit raw - and cuff you._

_Once again, I have a Tiger on a tree...ready to feel my pain..._

_"God, I love you, Sebastian..." I mumble, then lash the flogger down onto your shoulders._

 

 

God... I have no frame of reference for this.

This is the sweetest, most romantic experience of DominantJim ever... I thought there would be distance between us, I thought you would be cold and arrogant.

But your arms are around me and I hear you whisper, "You can touch," and I almost start crying then and there - to hear your exact words from when we got home from the showdown in the alley and we were kissing on the living room floor, and I asked you to make me yours, and I was so afraid our relationship would go back to the way it was... but it never did.

And now here we are kissing and holding each other in the sunlight, and... it's so fucking beautiful.

And I'm being cuffed to a palm tree again, and you're telling me you love me, and _ohhh_ pain... sweet, stinging pain.

I close my eyes, and exhale.

"I fucking love you too, Sir..." I breathe, and then my head is tilting back and my mouth is opening as the flogger lashes down on my shoulders again...

 

 

_A beautiful dance of love and pain... me moving around you, covering your body in lashes, none too hard, but coming without pause. I’m trying to paint you a nice even reddish shade... your back, your arse, your thighs... working my way down, then up again. You’re responding perfectly, not trying to maintain a stoic facade; showing everything you feel..._

_Time may have stopped or sped up or left us behind altogether, I don’t know and don’t care. All I see is your face, your skin, your muscles underneath, the M on your back..._

 

 

I'm not at our villa, I'm not in Mexico, I'm in another place entirely - we've entered your realm. Only - it's ours, isn't it... I'm not doing this for you. I love what you do to me...

There's an even sensation of stinging pain all over me - covering my skin like a cloak you've painted with your lashes.

As the lashing continues, the snapping of the leather is interspersed with the sounds escaping from my lips - I'm groaning and gasping, which I never used to let myself do until things reached a level of intensity where I couldn't stay silent anymore. I don't have anything to prove anymore. I'm just feeling the pain you're giving me... _God_ … so good...

"I love how you hurt me, Sir..." I moan. "Please... hurt me more...”

 

 

_Your sounds are a heavenly choir singing just for me... those moans and gasps, for *me*, from my lashes, from the pain that I’m giving you, because *I* want it and *you* want it, because pain is how we show our love... and so many other ways, but pain is an important part..._

_And you’re panting and moaning and asking me to hurt you *more* because you’re already halfway to delirium, and that’s no problem, Tiger, I can make this instrument truly *bite*, and so I do, making the sounds you sing even more pronounced, more beautiful, more intense..._

_When your backside is a nice even red, I stop, strip out of my shorts and t-shirt, hug you from behind, your naked skin glowing against mine._

_I lick a line from your shoulder blade to your neck, press my erection against your glowing arse._

_“I’m all hot now, from all that exertion in the sun... I think I’m going for a nice swim to cool down a bit. You’ll be here when I get back, won’t you?_

_Oh, could you hold this for me while I’m off?”_

_I press the handle of the whip vertically between your butt cheeks, you clench them so it doesn’t fall._

_“Don’t drop it...” I say, and with a pat on your arse turn towards the sea, looking inviting indeed._

 

 

I'm euphoric, I'm turned on, I'm gasping with pleasure... and you're pressing your naked body against mine, and licking my skin, and I'm soooo anticipating your invasion of my body when I feel your cock against my sore arse.

Then I hear your tone and I know immediately. Nope. No sex for Tiger. Not yet.

 _And_ someone's feeling playful...

Uh huh. Sure I can hold it for you, Sir. I lean my head back, and laugh to myself. Little shit.

I watch you as you walk naked across the sand. Fuck - I could watch that about a thousand times in a row. Then you're walking into the water, and I can't see your body anymore, but - you're enjoying yourself and this gives me so much pleasure, too. I see you dive underneath the surface of the water and then pop back up, shaking the water out of your hair. You must be feeling free if you don't care about your hair getting wet. Oh god... I could watch you endlessly... and when you walk back across the beach, my view will be even better than when you went in. I lean my head against the tree and I beam.

 

 

_I have a nice cooling swim but it’s doing little to diminish my raging erection. Looking back at the beach, seeing you tied to the tree, waiting for me... oh god, I *have* died and gone to heaven._

_There’s only so much entertainment the sea can bring, but it arouses me to see you waiting obediently, tied to a tree, your red skin glowing in the sunlight... oh sod it, that’s enough abstention. I swim back to the beach and walk towards you, my cock pointing the way. I take the whip from between your buttocks and rekindle the fire in your skin._

_“You’re an amazing sight, Tiger... a beautiful even red all over, with the M standing out... you’re going to look so much better before we go to bed though... there will be stripes, there will be blood, there will be tears and cries... You’ll feel the full sting of Jim Moriarty’s love..._

_But for now... I want to possess you... I want to take you, feel you from the inside... I want to fuck you hard and fast and come spectacularly inside your arse...”_

_I put down the whip, get the lube from my pocket, start preparing you._

 

 

My eyes widen when I see you emerge from the water with an erection. As you approach me I note your predatory gait, your gleaming eyes. Oh - something wicked this way comes...

I let out a moan as you bring back the slow, sweet burn to my skin with the flogger.

I listen to your words with half-closed eyes... oh god... today you're going to take me to the edge and beyond, aren't you... so far beyond where we've gone since arriving in our own private paradise...

I press my face against the palm tree trunk as your fingers claim my arse...

"Oh - yes-" I breathe. "I'm yours to possess, Sir…"

 

 

_"I know, my Tiger... you always have been... you were put onto this world solely for me..." I push my fingers inside you. "You were adrift until I found you... but so was I... I need to own you as much as you need to be owned by me. We're symbiotic, Tiger... What is an emperor without his subjects? A lonely man in a crown... I need the Tiger at my feet to make me shine, to show my power... and to pull up on his leash and fuck when the mood strikes me..." I align my cock, slowly push in. "And the mood has struck me... very much... because nothing is as beautiful as a Tiger moaning under my whip... tied to a tree... waiting for my pleasure..." I push harder._

 

 

I let out a soft groan as your cock pushes into me. My body quickly accommodates and you surge into me. My groan becomes louder as I feel the powerful strokes of your cock inside me. Oh, Jesus... it’s so much more intense when I’ve just been whipped, when I’m powerless to resist you...

“Fuck,” I pant. “Oh _fuck_ , Sir... your cock feels so good when you claim my arse...” You thrust harder and I’m pushed against the tree, gasping.

 

 

_I've been dying for your arse since I woke up, but I knew it would be better if I could indulge in some proper foreplay first... but I'm highly revved up now, pounding you against the tree, making you moan, writhe..._

_I bite your shoulder, hard, tasting blood... oh god Tiger your *blood*... I forgot how powerful an aphrodisiac it is..._

_I pull your hips back, grab around for your cock, start moving my hand on it, moving down when I'm thrusting in, up when I'm pulling out._

 

 

Oh _god_ , the moment you’re touching my cock, I’m moaning gutturally, whining, grunting... I have no thoughts in my mind, I’m just a vessel for your pleasure and it feels _So. Fucking. Good._

I gasp as you’re feasting on my blood and fucking me relentlessly.

“Oh god... oh fuck, yes,” I cry out, as I’m being pounded against the tree trunk. _Don’t come... don’t come..._ , I think desperately.

“Oh... my emperor ... my master... my love... ” I whisper against the bark, longingly.

 

 

_Your words send me further into my fucking frenzy... you're such a perfect combination for all the senses - your moans, your astounding body, the smell of your fresh sweat, the taste of your blood, the friction against my cock..._

_"My love... my Tiger... my slave... mine... oh god *mine*..."_

_I am coming inside you, it's as spectacular as ever, I see black spots, dig my right hand into your hips, hold my left momentarily still on your cock, as I'm thrown into spasms of delight._

_"Oh god Tiger... Sebastian... god you feel so... *god*..."_

 

 

As soon as I feel your muscles shivering, my body starts to relax - coming is within sight. I feel you go into spasm, feel you spurting into me... and it’s so fucking hot, that between this and your hand’s tightening grip on my cock, I’m on the brink of orgasm and then it washes over me, and I’m shooting against the tree trunk. As I fall panting against the trunk, I find myself absurdly wondering if semen has any effect on palm tree bark, because I suspect this will not be the only time you’re pounding me against one...

Mmm... I _really love Mexico_...

 

 

_I'm holding on to you, leaning my head on your glowing back, getting my breath back, slowly feeling myself shrinking and slipping out of you._

_When I feel my legs can support me again, I take the key, undo your cuffs, then hug you close, leaning against the palm tree. I feel the slickness of your seed against my bottom._

_"That was marvellous, my Tiger... really quite superb..." I murmur and then we kiss, the kiss of two husbands who have just had great sex, on a private beach, in Mexico, far away from everything._

_After all that's happened, it feels like our bubble is manifesting again, like we are drifting from the world, and that's how it should be. Except we are more vigilant - which is unfortunately necessary - but doesn't need to interfere with life too much. We're used to it - it's been part of who we are for so long. We forgot for a moment, lost in the illusion of a paradise remote from the world, but we've been well and truly reminded._

_Maybe I should buy a tropical island for us to retire to..._

_I lead you back to the beach chair, where you sit down at my feet, unbidden. I smile._

_"I had four orgasms yesterday - I want to have as many today. Each one of them is going to get harder on you, my Tiger..._

_But today is not *just* going to be about pain. I want to try some other things as well. And I want to remind you to tell me if you're not comfortable with anything. Alright?"_

 

 

The hug against the palm tree is dreamy - again, not expected on a day of domination, but I did realize I should expect the unexpected...

Then I’m sitting at your feet, feeling very much like a lazy tiger. Four orgasms again, you greedy Kitten... sounds delicious and promising for me... surely some of those will include an orgasm for your loyal, devoted slave. But what do you mean by ‘harder on me’?

“I will definitely tell you, Sir - thank you. I have a question - would you like me to offer you things like food and drinks, or - should I wait until you tell me?”

 

 

_"Wait until I tell you - no need to be pro-active unless instructed." God I'm hilarious sometimes._

_"But now you mention it - a drink is a *very* good idea. Get me a bottle of water and a glass of coke, with ice. You can have a bottle of water yourself."_

 

 

"Happy to, Sir..." I smile, eyeing you with pleasure.

I can feel your gaze on me as I get up and walk back to the house - well, I always did enjoy a good ogle. I flex my back and arse, and let my muscles ripple for you.

In the kitchen, I fix a glass of coke for you and grab two bottles of water. I know we _just_ finished having sex, but I'm already thinking of what the day has in store for me. You're not kidding - I guess I do have a one-track mind. I'm just so curious - if it's not just pain, then - what else are you planning, my diabolical deviant? Something sweet? Something kinky? I like both - especially at your hands...

I return to you, place your drinks on the table next to you. Then I sit at your feet, drinking my water and enjoying the sunshine on my skin.

 

 

_We sit happily in silence for a bit, my hand playing in your hair, when I hear the gate bell ring._

_"Oh Tiger - those must be our swords!" I exclaim, excitedly. You make to get up, but I order you to stay put - I'll deal with this._

_The camera shows a delivery van. I ask the man his business and he says he's got a delivery from The Forge for Mr Lambert - excellent. I beep him in and he hands me several large long packages and a smaller one._

_When he's gone, I hide the smaller package down the back of the supplies cupboard, and carry the long large ones outside._

_"Our arms, Tiger - want to unwrap them now?"_

 

 

"Of course I do!! Sir," I add.

You hand me one package, and I get to work unwrapping - I part the bubble wrap to see the mortuary swords, and exhale slowly.

"Beautiful..." I lift one up, and watch it gleam in the sun.

I look over at you unwrapping the bastard swords.

"Are you going to want to use them at all today, Sir? Because in that case I should reeeally put on some trousers..." I grin.

Oh - that sounded more like my old self - I've been so careful so far, being very polite and respectful. Did that sound irreverent to your ears?

"I should ask, Sir... do you want me to only speak when spoken to, or... talk like I normally do, minus all the sarcasm?"

 

 

_You're *adorable* for asking... god I love you. Have I told you today? I think I have..._

_"You can speak whenever you want, Tiger - I want to hear your thoughts. As long as you stay respectful - so bridle that tongue of yours, or I will," I reply._

_"Are you sure you need to put on trousers to play with swords? Because - you really shouldn't have put that thought in my head, you know. I'm now picturing you waving both swords around... Do a naked sword dance for me?"_

 

 

I feel myself relaxing a little. Although that could be dangerous because being snarky is pretty much my default.

Well, it's going to be a long day if I have to behave like I'm in the army all over again...

"If we're interested in being safety-conscious, _yes_... it's not recommended to wave one sword around while the other one is flying free, as it were...

A naked sword dance... oh god, I have no idea, Sir..."

I look at the swords and back at you.

 

 

_"Aw. What did they teach you at fencing lessons? Oh well. Safety first. We don't want bits of you inadvertently chopped off, I may still have use for them," I acknowledge._

_I do want to play with our new toys, so concessions will have to be worn... "Go on, put on your trousers and chain mail and whatever else you need for this..." I wave to the villa. "I'll be awaiting your return with bated breath."_

_As you go into the house, I put on my own clothes and unwrap the practice swords. They're of good, heavy quality - metal core with foamy plastic round it. Realistic enough to be useful in practice, but less likely to severely injure someone if you don't know what you're doing - like me._

 

 

I bound up the stairs to the bedroom. I can't wait to get my hands on those swords, and start swinging away on the beach. It'll be fun to teach you too, although I'm hardly an expert - but I know the basics, and now I have incentive to learn more.

In the bedroom, I pull on pants and my leather biker trousers. I don't bother with a shirt or shoes.

When I get back to the patio, you've unwrapped the practice swords and are brandishing one at me.

I grin at the sight.

"OK, so what do I do?" you ask, shrugging.

"First things first - stance. Left foot, front - right, back. Weight evenly distributed - like so." I demonstrate, then observe you. "Hips would be facing opponent..." I correct, then step behind you and move my hips against yours to correct your position. "Like so..."

 

 

_You’re putting me in different positions and explain how one moves when the sword moves. It’s like dancing in a way - except more lethal. I think I’m enjoying this new form of exercise. It’s less depressingly realistic than unarmed combat or knife fighting, and more physical than shooting._

_Soon we’re clashing practice swords together, moving across the beach, and it all fits marvellously with the image of you as a dashing hero that has been reoccurring in the past few days. You turn out to be a patient and flexible teacher, and it helps that you’re righthanded, so I can mirror your moves. It just goes wrong occasionally when we get your left and my left mixed up, so at one point I nearly bash you round the head. Fortunately your reflexes are excellent._

_Soon we are panting and the sun is getting hot, so we call it a day, have a quick shower on the patio, and go inside to make lunch (you) and coffee (me)._

_“That was fun, Tiger. That was a good idea,” I smile._

 

 

"I'm _so_ glad you enjoyed it, Sir. And that was just your first time - imagine how much more fun it will be when we can really bash away at each other." I grin at you as I heat up the food from our motorcycle ride yesterday. "I was thinking, we could find an instructor to give us private lessons. I'm not sure if we'll find one here, but at least in London. It won't take you that long to reach my level... I knew you'd be a natural..."

I arrange the food on plates - potato and chorizo sandwiches, with roasted corn - it smells delicious.

"Where would you like to eat, Sir?"

 

 

_"We'll eat on the patio. You'll serve," I say, and go outside to sit at the table, waiting for you to bring out the plates, cutlery, coffee, and water. When you've served me, I nod at the other chair at the table - it's no fun not to eat together. However, the coffee is giving me ideas..._

_"Hold on – first get me a coke with ice," I order, and you go in to get me one._

_The coffee is too hot to drink, anyway..._

_I pull off my t-shirt, wrap it around you as a makeshift blindfold, then sit on your lap, pick up my mug of coffee, and rub it over your chest, moving slowly._

 

 

Someone’s ready to play a game... I feel you sit on me, and wonder what you’re up to.

I feel something hard and hot against my skin, and I inhale sharply. Ceramic.

Coffee mug - moving over my chest.

What are you planning, my sweet sadist?

 

 

_The cup is turning your skin nice and red. I don't leave it in one place long enough to actually burn, but you are hissing a bit when it hits your nipple._

_When I've made a nice red band on your chest, I put it back on the table and grab an ice cube out of my glass, press it against your hot skin, move it slowly over the red band._

 

 

I hiss in response to the sudden cold, the bite of ice against my heated skin...

"Oh... Sir..." I breathe.

My head falls back. I shiver as the ice glides against my chest.

My skin is stinging, burning with heat and cold... I exhale slowly and wait for what will happen next.

 

 

_I love your little breaths, your shivers, your gooseflesh. I move the ice cube in slow lines over the red band, then drop it on the floor and pick up the coffee mug again, press it against your chest, move it over the band slowly, evaporating the droplets, taking another ice cube, putting one, then the other on your skin, keeping you guessing which one it will be and where..._

 

 

My body's signals are getting confused, and responses to excess heat and cold are getting mixed up.

A stream of sounds is issuing from my lips - muffled gasps and exclamations... tiny moans...

Oh fuck, Jim... you always were masterful at torture...

 

 

_Ah yes, the nerves are getting confused, not sure which is which... but the coffee is getting cold, or well, lukewarm... hmm..._

_I reach for your packet of cigarettes on the table, light one. You hear the click of the lighter and me taking a drag, and flinch - of course Tiger... you have more than one burn scar that's a consequence of my smoking habit... but not now, the day is still young..._

_I take another draught, and move the cigarette close to your skin, making you twitch. I hold it close for a second, then put a corner of an ice cube there, making you gasp out loud - oh, this is *fun*. I get to work with the cigarette and ice cube, being careful not to actually burn the skin... too much..._

 

 

Are you- going to- _god_ not quite, but so close... my skin feels singed by the heat of the cigarette, and then the ice feels so intense, I can’t help but gasp.

I have no idea if the cigarette embers are actually burning me from their proximity, but I suspect my skin will be red and stinging for the rest of the day. It was inevitable really, and I was prepared - it was just a matter of how... and how far you’d go.

And the day is still young...

 

 

_I'm getting quite intrigued by my little game of make Seb guess the sensation, but the cigarette is running out and my fingers are numb from holding ice cubes, so I guess it's time for lunch. I drop the ice cube, stub the cigarette out in the ashtray like a good boy, lean my chest against yours - it feels funny, hot and cold and wet in patches - and kiss you passionately, before removing your blindfold and putting my t-shirt back on._

_"Enjoy your lunch, Tiger..." I smile, hopping back onto my own seat._

 

 

I blink in the sunlight, and exhale slowly as my body processes all the sensations my skin is feeling.

Suddenly ravenous, I shove a sandwich into my mouth and chew a mouthful. It's delicious but not hot by any stretch of the imagination.

"I'm so sorry, Sir... this appears to have gone cold..." I smirk. "Would you like me to reheat it for you?"

 

 

_"It's fine, Tiger... it tastes delicious," I grin. The skin on your chest is looking quite interesting - almost mottled. You look so beautiful, sitting there, eating... What is it about watching you eat that just makes me want to melt into a puddle with two heart-shaped eyes? I sip my coffee - also not quite hot any more, but I don't mind - I often completely forget about my coffee when I'm working and drink it cold._

 

 

We finish our food, munching our cold, delicious sandwiches as we watch the waves.

"This food is amazing..." I sigh with satisfaction as I push my plate back. "We definitely need to stop there again... next time I take you for a ride, Sir," I say with an innocent expression.

 

 

_I snigger at that. “Couldn’t *quite* keep that tongue in check, could you, my Tiger?”_

_You look at me innocently. “Don’t know what you mean, Sir...” you grin._

_“Right...” I reply. God I love that grin._

_“Shall I tidy up, Sir?” you ask, and I nod._

_“After that, bring me a rum and coke with lots of ice,” I order, then go back to my beach chair. Life is good when you’re a psycho in love..._

 

 

As I prepare your drink, I ponder - you obviously enjoyed me being cheeky, and there was no retribution - unless it is coming later.

Maybe I don’t need to be quite so stiff and formal - but I also don’t know if I trust myself if I’m feeling too laid back.

But then- you’re not going to do anything _terrible_ \- and you said I could tell you if I wasn’t enjoying something.

And you don’t want any actual disobedience... But how much cheekiness is acceptable? Tricky... very tricky...

Well, I obviously navigated this grey area just fine when it was actually a life-and-death situation... so maybe I’m spending too much time thinking about this. And if I take any longer ruminating in the kitchen, I’m going to be late bringing you your drink. I swipe up the glass and carry it out. I’m tempted to take a sip, but your powers of observation are astounding and a small mouthful of rum and coke is not worth being thrashed within an inch of my life...

I present you with your untasted drink. “Rum and coke, Sir...” I say with a smile and await instruction.

 

 

_I take a languorous sip. “Mmm... perfect...”_

_I put it down on the side table, stand up, and take the sunscreen. “It’s getting too sunny for the Irish skin... pray protect me from the evil rays.”_

_You rub every inch of me with diligence and care. When you’ve finished, I hand you yours._

_“Put this on as well Tiger - you’ll be in the sun for a bit and I don’t want you to get burnt. If anyone burns you, it’s me. I’ll just nip inside - I’ll be back in a moment.”_

 

 

Good god, what are you planning? I slather myself with sunscreen thoroughly including my tender, manly bits, and my backside. I do my back as best as I can - I suppose I can ask for your help. Damn, that drink looks good...

 

 

_I load some things in a bag, then stop off in the kitchen. As I’m making my preparations, I see you looking at my drink longingly. Oh, what are you going to do, Tiger? Will you be good, deserving a drink of your own when the next ordeal is over? Or are you going to make me punish you? Either is fine with me..._

 

 

I’m hot... and drinking water all day is _boring_...

Don’t be an _idiot_ , just stand there and wait...

But I’m thirsty... and it looks so good...

He’s already planning _something_ , and you want it to be worse?? Be smart, Seb...

I guess I’m not that smart...

I look back and don’t see you. I pick up the sunscreen and lean over as if to rub more of it on my calves - and quick as you please I’ve taken a sip and wiped the rim of the glass on both sides. It doesn’t matter - you’ll know. You always know...

 


	7. My Mad Fucking Romantic Genius

_I smile. Oh, my sweet sweet disobedient Tiger..._

_I saunter outside. If I hadn’t seen you take the sip, your face would have given you away... you have a good enough poker face to fool the average idiot, but honey... you know I can read you like a book..._

_“I’m disappointed...” I say, looking anything but._

_“How come?” you ask, looking like the most innocent pussycat in the world._

_“I thought I was a bit more awe-inspiring... scary... instead it appears that even you don’t fear me. Have I lost my touch? Gone soft in my old age?”_

 

 

"I don't know how you do it, Sir..." I mutter, staring at the glass. "I suppose I deserve whatever is it I'll get..."

I look at you directly. "And it's _not_ that I don't find you awe-inspiring or scary. But you called it the very first time you told me I was an adrenaline junkie. We are who we are... right, Sir?" I can feel my heartbeat increasing as you watch me with a delighted smile. I know I'm going to _pay_ for disobedience to my Emperor... but _fuck_ it feels good. I look at you affectionately and a hint of a smile plays on my lips.

 

 

_I pace across the beach. "So, I had *plans*... Plans to make you suffer. Which of course will have to go through, because they are my plans. However, punishment shall *also* have to take place... so... do you want your punishment before, after, or at the same time as what I had planned?" I stop, look at you expectantly._

 

 

"I don't suppose you'll give me any more information than that, Sir?" I inquire politely.

 

 

_"No."_

 

 

I can think strategically all I like but in the end, I'm still going to suffer hard. Fuck it.

"All right... punishment during, Sir."

 

 

_I raise my eyebrows. Wow. You really *are* an adrenaline junkie._

_"Alright Tiger... " I say softly. I walk over to you, put my arms around you, kiss you. You hesitate a moment, then put your arms around me, kiss me back, passionately._

_I let go, take you by the hand to a trusty palm tree - honestly, every sadist should have a beach with palm trees, they're so handy - get a rope from my bag, and tell you to help me up. You fold your hands, I step into them, you lift me, and I tie the rope around the tree. I walk with it towards another tree, stopping in the middle to make a knot around the chain of a pair of cuffs, then pull it tight and tie the other end around the other tree. Perfect - the cuffs are dangling a foot or two above your head - you'll not be completely immobilized, but you won't be going anywhere._

_"You'll have to jump to reach them," I point, and you do, pulling them down far enough that I can tie them around your wrists one by one._

_And there you are… my Tiger, tied in between two palm trees on your own private beach, your eyes shining and dark, waiting for my punishment... apprehensive of it, yet craving it._

_"I'll be back in a moment," I say, and walk inside again._

 

 

Well... you wouldn't be you if you didn't make me wait...

making me think of all kinds of scenarios... some stimulating... some disconcerting...

and the very best ones are both...

making me nervous about what is coming ...

making me crave it even more...

oh _fuck_ , baby...

I start to strain at my cuffs, feeling like I could pull the trees down with my hunger.

Let's _do_ this.

 

 

_I look through the whips, choose my trusted signal whip, go back outside. You look at me walking out of the house, see the whip in my hands, keep looking me in the eyes as I approach with it._

_"This is going to be your punishment, my love..." I say as I get close._

_I stop a foot or two away from you, let the whip fly, lash a line on the top of your chest, just under your collar bones. I absolutely love this whip, I know it inside out, can give you the slightest caress with it as well as harsh pain. I am going for a medium approach here - not excruciating, but definitely painful._

_And because I can aim it so precisely, I aim the next lash right underneath. And the next one right underneath that one. I am setting up a steady rhythm, not giving you a chance to catch your breath between strokes._

 

 

 _Oh hello, my lovely_... I gaze at the whip you’re holding. I’ve suffered pain and ecstasy at its cruel tip more times than I can count... but it’s been more than a year, and we’re about to get reacquainted quickly...

I gasp at the whip’s sharp kiss, and the next, and the next - coming hard and fast and relentlessly... oh, Jim... _yes_ , baby... make me pay...

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” I gasp. “FUCK...”

 

 

_I know that gasp... God, I know that gasp. It's the gasp of oh fuck pain actually *hurts*, the gasp of oh fuck I can't do this, the gasp of oh god yes, the gasp of oh please don't stop..._

_I know your body Tiger, I know it so intimately, and I'm making it hurt *just right*, because that's what we both want..._

_I lash your chest until I've covered your pecs, then I stop. You look absolutely stunning, hanging in your cuffs, panting slightly..._

_I put the whip down for a moment, walk to my bag._

_"See Tiger, I had some other things in mind for this afternoon... which you chose to experience simultaneously with your punishment."_

_I take the ginger root I peeled in the kitchen out of its little plastic bag._

_"I was just going to use these, and sit back and watch you... but instead I'm going to have to punish you as well. It's going to be intense..." I hug you from the back, stroking my fingers over the area I've just whipped, "but anything for my Tiger..." I breathe in your ear._

_My fingers move to your arse, push your cheeks apart, as my other hand puts the ginger root at your entrance, slowly pushes it in._

 

 

Oh, Christ... Oh Jesus Fuck...

It’s certainly not the first time you’ve slipped something in where the sun doesn’t shine for your own diabolical delight... but you’ve never used _ginger root_...

I now know what ginger root up the arse feels like.

I didn’t think I needed to know - ever. But you had other ideas.

Oh, it’s... _oh_.

It feels like my eyes are going to start watering from the stinging heat that’s coming from _within_ me... oh god, I can just imagine how this is going to feel when your cock inevitably enters me... belated vengeance for the joys of a tequila-soaked cock up the arse you experienced at our beach orgy?

I’m trying very hard to focus on other things... even the stinging pain of my almost singed, freshly whipped chest feels nice and refreshing by comparison.

But the essential oils of sliced ginger are very potent and apparently very easily absorbed by soft tissues...

My eyes start watering...

“Motherfucking Christ...” I moan, as my head falls back and my eyes squeeze shut.

 

 

_You're a beauty... responding so perfectly to the sensation... I can't believe I never tried this before. It's marvellous to behold. Your face is travelling through a very interesting journey, your eyes are getting damp, you're saying words that would deeply disappoint your dear mother, and you're doing the thing with your head that you normally only do after a bit more effort from my part._

_"Oh my dear Tiger... you already seem quite moved... and I've only just got started..." I comment, as I walk to the bag and get out my next assault weapon - the nipple clamps. I've used these on you before - because men's nipples are smaller than women's, obviously I had to remove the little plastic caps, leaving the metal serrated edge. The little teeth are perfect to maintain a grip - and to make my Tiger very uncomfortable indeed._

_I see your look of dismay as you spot them, smile at you, wrap my arms around you, hug you close, kiss you. Your kiss back is slightly breathless - you're still very much feeling the effects of the ginger - but enthusiastic enough. I let myself melt into the kiss for a bit, then lift up my left hand, move to your whipped nipple, and very gently let the metal teeth sink in._

 

 

I suck in my breath hard.

It feels like an alarm has gone off in my body... _High alert. Prepare for system overload..._

“Cocksucking...”

You’re not done...

“Motherfucking...”

you’re _not nearly done_...

“Holy... fuck...”

 

 

_"Such lovely sounds Tiger... you're going to make so many more before I'm done." I move my hand to the other nipple, let the clamp bite down onto that._

 

 

Another sharp inhale, another arch of my back.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," I mutter.

My eyelids flutter open to see you staring at me with intense pleasure.

"Oh _god_ , Sir… you do like to watch me suffer, don't you?" I manage a half-grin, despite the intense sensations coursing through my body.

 

 

_"I do, Tiger... so much... You're so fucking beautiful like this, helpless, at my mercy, suffering so exquisitely... mmm..." I reach up to kiss you, stroke your face, wipe the small tears that have managed to break free. "There will be more tears, my love... Your eyes are so lovely when they're damp and dark and wide and looking at me desperate with hunger and anguish..." I stroke my hand down your neck, over your whipped chest, your as yet undamaged stomach, down to your cock... which is stiff, because it loves you suffering as much as you do._

_I fold my hand around it, lean close to you, whisper - "Are you ready for the rest of your punishment?"_

 

 

"Am I ready?" I laugh through my tears. "As ready I can be..."

My eyes lock with yours. "As _ever_... I belong to you."

 

 

_Fuck, that line just never gets old... I so love hearing it, over and over and over..._

_*Mine.*_

_I step back, pick up the whip again, watch you brace yourself. I continue where I left off, just under the pecs, the sensitive area of the solar plexus and the abs..._

 

 

With the first few lashes, I'm flinching and gasping - and as you continue, I'm feeling a floaty euphoric feeling state hovering in the background. When it comes… when it drops... it'll be a whole new game.

But for now... _pain pain pain_ … _fucking fuck_ … _FUCK_ …

"Oh god..." I gasp. " _OH GOD_ …"

 

 

_Yes my dear... I am your god, aren't I?_

_I move to your thighs, lashing them from top to bottom, carefully placing my lines parallel and not overlapping - it's like intricately painting the most beautiful canvas ever. Your moans and gasps ring in my ears - so magnificent..._

_There is nothing better than being the hand on the whip, feeling the impact as it lashes you, seeing your face contort in pain, hearing the little gasp for breath, the moan... moving the whip back again, repeating the process... it's like building up a store of electricity, of arousal, and each lash jolts the power up, until I'm glowing, buzzing, floating a foot above the ground... it's a physical sensation as well as mental... but mostly emotional and sexual, god, so sexual... my cock jumps with every strike, my heart grows a bit bigger with every groan._

_When I reach the bottom of your thighs, I put down the whip, move over to you, take your face into my hands, kiss your lips softly, stroke my hands down your neck and chest to your nipples. I take the clamps in both hands, and release them._

_You groan loudly, your face screwing up at the pain of the blood rushing back into them. I silently count to ten, then put them back on._

_The look on your face is incomparable._

 

 

My feelings are shifting...

My thoughts are fading...

There is only you and the whip and the pain.

And then... the whip and the pain are you.

 _You_ are lashing down hard my thighs...

 _You_ are the pain searing through my skin, my muscles, my nipples...

I breathe through this pain that is you when the clamps are removed.

And then your pain returns with a vengeance when they clamp back down...

I’ve been cursing like a sailor... but now I’m beyond words. I roar at the pain that is you blazing through me. And when I look up, panting - I lock eyes with you and unleash a feral smile.

 

 

_Your head flies back and you roar like a tortured tiger. See, this is why we didn't have neighbours... Well, partially._

_Your head falls forward as you pant through the pain. My love... my cherished, beautiful, obedient love..._

_Your head comes up and your eyes look into mine... and your smile - oh my Tiger. Nowhere near broken, not even close._

_I move to your other side and start lashing your shoulders, patiently, methodically, one lash directly underneath the other, making my way down inch by inch._

 

 

The pain that is you travels down my body, from the shoulders. No spot is missed...

Oh god, oh god - I can just _imagine_ how I'm going to feel tomorrow - every inch of me, and that includes a certain orifice that is still stinging and burning up a storm... Don't think of that - don't think-

Thoughts shut down again...

There is only the maelstrom of sensation that is you...

I am slowly fading into the background...

In the foreground there is you, your lashes, your pain...

only you, my love...

only you.

 

 

_I move down, down, down over your back, reaching your arse - you have worked out by now that clenching it makes the ginger infinitely worse, so you keep it relaxed under the lash... it's always my favourite spot to whip, it's so round and pert and inviting, the whip making an indentation before it springs back out, a white stripe slowly turning red..._

_You're beyond making noises now, you're in a world of your own, hanging in your cuffs, just moving slightly with each lash._

_And then the back of your thighs..._

 

 

Ohhh... your pain has become a cloak over me, a cloak of your love and cruelty, cocooning me from the world and keeping me safe and sound and all to yourself... there is no life beyond you... there is no world beyond you...

I don't feel the individual lashes so much anymore, one lash gets added to the countless ones before... to the stinging burning pain of your cruel, delicious love...

I feel myself sagging...

over the sound of your lashes I hear only ragged sighs from my lips...

 

 

_Nearly there... I finish by lashing your calves, not the easiest target, but a painful one, there's no padding there. You're in lala-land and take the strokes like you've been taking the rest, with barely a sigh._

_And the punishment is over._

 

_You're red and raw from tip to toe both front and back; there are tears on your cheeks, you've never looked more lovely..._

_I unlock the cuffs, hold your hands as I help you to your knees, then bend you over until you are on all fours. I take a condom from my pocket, lose my shorts, put it on, slather some lube on it, and sit down behind you, slowly pull the ginger out of your arse._

 

 

When you uncuff me, I'm in another world completely. You have to guide me into the position you desire... this is all about your desire, there's nothing else. Dimly I'm aware of the ginger being removed from my arse, but of course the stinging remains. I'm sort of almost used to it now, as I am to all the burning pain across my skin.

I do wonder what it will feel like when your cock inevitably claims my arse... part of me cringes at the thought, and part of me feels like firing a gun into the sky and yelling _Bring it fucking on_ …

 

 

_I push inside you, giving you the chance to accommodate, but not going too slow - the energy has been building up to boiling point and I need my release... a shiver travels down your spine and you're clawing into the sand as I push deeper - it feels a bit odd, with the condom, but I'm not too keen to find out what ginger feels like on my knob, thank you very much._

 

 

It doesn't feel that different at first when you enter me and pause. I relax, thinking that's it...

but then you move in deeper, and _fuuuuuck_ I feel it now, oh god, I really feel it...

I'm digging my hands into the sand, seeking purchase... but there's nothing to grasp onto.

You move out and then shove back inside me, and I'm writhing and groaning loudly... _fuck_ , Jim... is this ever going to be a hell of a ride...

 

 

_You're reacting *so beautifully*, squirming and moaning - oh wow this is going into the repertoire. Combined with the pressure I'd already built up, your arousing responses invite a hard and fast fuck - orgasm is waiting and it's been waiting long enough._

_I'm pounding into you, pulling your hips onto me, building my excitement swiftly, and it's coming, it's coming Tiger, I'm going to come - I push you further down, your head and chest onto the sand, as I pound into you - oh god - oh *yes* –_

_A million purple stars explode behind my screwed-shut eyes as I groan out your name and the condom fills up - oh my god this is - exultation - ecstasy - god *Sebastian*..._

 

 

Well, you're definitely turned on by everything that just happened... because you're fucking me like an animal, and yes, it's fucking hot - but it's also literally _fucking hot_ , and at the pace you're going, I'm relieved it won't last long...

But in the meantime...

your aggression is sexy as fuck... I'm being pushed down and moaning so loudly.

And then you're coming, and it's so weird not to feel it... I really don't like condoms after we've been fucking raw for so many years.

But for all that it was fucking uncomfortable... your desire as always gets me so hot.

My cock is rock hard. I have no idea what to expect next...

 

 

_Fuck, fuckkkkk, Jesus Christ on a motherfucking *bicycle*, this is good... Despite the condom, my orgasm is *intense*. God, Seb, I am such a sadist, I know, but this made me *so hot*..._

_I roll off you, fall supine into the sand._

_Stay with it, Moriarty - Seb is still in the Zone, what are you going to do about him?_

_First of all - remove those nipple clamps. I gently pull you up, take them in my hands, undo them. You hiss, shudder._

_I'm thinking of denying you orgasm - after all, you were being punished - but you look so incredibly adorable like this, your eyes damp, your pupils large, your mouth slightly open as you breathe shallowly - no, I couldn't. I push you into the hot sand - a tool as indispensable to sadists as palm trees - tell you to "Lie very still, Tiger..." and sink my mouth onto your cock._

 

 

Ohhhhh…

myyyyy…

fuckkking…

 _GOD_ …

pleasure...

pure pleasure...

after all that pain and burning...

\- well, there's still some pain and burning what with the hot sand -

feels like _fucking crack_ …

\- or how I imagine crack to feel, anyway -

 _Shut up Sebastian_ … shut up and focus on the epic blow job immediately...

how often does an Emperor sink down onto his knees in the sand and blow his disobedient slave?

Stop thinking and enjoy the fuck out of it!

I moan loudly at the feeling of your mouth on my cock... oh god... oh _god_ …

 

 

_My efforts appear to be appreciated... but..._

_I stop, sit back up. "That will do."_

_You look at me in shock; wide-open, desperate eyes._

_"Your adrenaline addiction apparently makes you keen to test me, to invite punishment... like it's something *fun*, something to toy with as you like... that's not obedience, is it?"_

_I stroke a finger along your thigh, over your cock, then scratch my nails down your other thigh._

_"I don't appreciate being *tested*, or *pushed*, Tiger... if you want punishment, you can just ask for it, and I'll be more than happy to oblige. But don't *challenge* me - because you are *never* going to win. Do you realize that?"_

 

 

I sit up and take a moment to think. You watch me as I think, and it feels like being observed by a serpent.

"You're right, of course, Sir..." I say, gazing at you. "And when you first came back and we still had issues to work through... you didn't want to do any domination until we'd worked them out. And I thought we'd worked out enough... but there are still apparently some unresolved issues. And maybe it makes me want to test and push, on a level so deep I wasn't aware of it... and we _definitely_ don't need to get into this now or tomorrow or the next day. I just want you to know it's _not_ intentional, and I'm _not_ consciously trying to challenge you, test you or push you. If that's how it comes across to you, I'm sorry. You'll do whatever you think is best in response, and I'm good with whatever you decide. Because I _meant_ what I said, even if I can't control my impulses 100% of the time - you're the boss and what you say goes."

I sit and wait as you think, and gaze at you adoringly.

 

 

_Good answer, Tiger... I'd expected shock and pleading, or being challenged - I hadn't expected a considered and reasoned reply. Well done - especially considering the state you are in._

_Oh fuck it._

_"Alright then," I shrug, and dive back onto your cock._

 

 

 _Now_ I'm shocked. I fall back, wincing as my reddened back grinds against the hot sand.

And to think I almost responded with resentment and challenge... but it would have felt like this day of domination was all lip-service…

You either own me or you don't. There's no halfway. And you do. You _do_.

I'm far from fucking perfect, but it turns out you're not demanding perfection any more...

I fucking love this relationship.

And right now I'm going to enjoy getting my cock sucked by the Emperor of my world.

 _fuckkk Jiiim_...

 

 

_You're shivering and moaning and it doesn't take long - pain gets you so close to the edge. I've made you come before just by whipping you..._

_When I taste you, feel you shuddering underneath me, I'm filled with such a sense of satisfaction and love... my wonderful Tiger... We're working out a dynamic which is effective, which has the good things from our old relationship, but not the bad things. I'm really glad we seem to be able to still do this - I can still push you to the edge of endurance, and you can still fall into a trance of tortured bliss, even when we have a relationship which is kind of equal - well - yeah. It's complicated, but it works. I don't want a mindless tool any more, but I do need a slave, because there is nothing that feels better than seeing the strongest, sexiest man on the fucking planet on his knees before me, accepting my power and pain. And it looks like I can have it all... a partner, a husband, a best friend, a slave, a masochistic lover..._

_All I need to do is try not to kill him._

_I stroke your face when you recover, kiss the tears that seep out of the corner of your eye. When you're reasonably back to earth, I lead you to the patio shower and wash you gently in lukewarm water, then spread a clean towel out onto the sand and rub soothing skin lotion all over you._

 

 

There are no words to describe an orgasm when I'm in submissive mode, when I'm fully yours, when you do what you desire with me...

my body is burning with pain and pleasure, inside and out...

trembling with excitement and exhaustion...

shuddering with rapture and relinquishment...

I let go, let go, let go... of everything that came before this moment.

The burning is a pure white cleansing fire, setting me free -

floating in infinite space in a place beyond time...

But I do return, and when I do, I blink up at you - gazing at me with love, stroking my face.

And I cry a little, to see your face... the face that I adore.

And then I'm being guided, washed, and gently rubbed with lotion.

The burning inside and out is still there, but muted now.

I close my eyes and sigh as I feel your hands sweeping over my skin.

"Yours," I whisper. "Always _yours_."

 

 

_“You’re fantastic, Sebastian...” I say softly, rubbing your chest. “I love you. So much._

_I... was going to save this for tonight, but..._

_Wait here.”_

_I walk to the kitchen, get the small packages out, get us both a rum and coke. Walk back outside, to where you are leaning up on one elbow, looking at me expectantly._

_I hand you the rum and coke, sit down in the sand. “Here you go - you were apparently desperate for one of these...” I grin._

_Then I reach into the little cardboard container, get out a small black box. I’m not sure how to do this - I guess I should get on one knee or something? Yes, why not..._

_I move one leg up, hold the box up in front of your astonished face, open it. Inside is a gunmetal ring with a soundwave etched into it, inlaid with a thin layer of silver._

 

_“Sebastian Patrick Moriarty... would you do me the honour of wearing my ring?”_

 

 

I smile a bit sheepishly as I take the rum and coke. I’m about to thank you when suddenly you’re bringing out a small black box...

(What - is that?)

Getting on one knee...

( _Jim_?)

Opening the box to reveal...

(oh _god_ )

I’ve moved up to a sitting position without realizing it.

I’m blinking at you stupidly for what feels like forever.

And then I’m covering my face with my hand, as my face is suddenly awash with tears.

“You know I’m-“ my voice is deep, rawly emotional, and it cuts out.

My chin trembles.

“You know-“ I try again, and the tears start up again.

I screw my eyes shut, and then open them again.

“The honour would be mine...” I whisper.

 

 

_I’m looking at you, your face journey a sight to behold. I thought you’d be touched - I wasn’t sure if I should do it; we’re already married, you don’t wear rings normally, it’s not practical in your line of work, but..._

_oh god that face..._

_I made the right choice._

_I hold out my hand. You look at it not moving for a second, then lift your hand and put it in mine._

_I take the ring in my fingers, put it slowly on yours._

_“Like the metal of this ring, my love for you is dark and often seen as ugly and violent. It’s not worth a lot, and most people wouldn’t want it, but it’s indestructible and without end.”_

 

_I kiss your hand, wearing my ring._

 

 

“Not worth a lot? It’s worth everything...” I say, staring at it in a daze. “ _Everything_.”

I turn it around on my finger. “I didn’t even know I wanted it so badly until I saw it,” I confide. “Words feel so trite - but _thank you_. This means more to me than I can ever express. I didn’t think you’d want to wear them... or I would have put a ring on you a week ago. But I want you to wear one, too. Will you?”

I kiss your ring finger.

 

 

_I take out the other box._

_“I think these things are usually got as sets. So - I got matching rings.”_

_I give the box to you; you open it to see a smaller ring of the same metal, but with a soundwave etched in gold._

_I look at your face - you won’t be disappointed I chose it already for you?_

 

 

“Matching is good. I love it,” I beam at you. “So - soundwave. Explain? And

\- why is yours in gold and mine in silver?“ I ask curiously.

 

 

_“Well - you’re my Sun and Stars, and I’m the Moon of your Life. But it’s not just because of that silly show - it fits. You are more like the sun, large and gold and warm and beaming when you smile. I’m more like the moon - white and smaller and nocturnal. And so - gold for your golden sunlight and hair, and silver for my moonlight and skin._

_As to the soundwaves...” I grin, look down. “You can record your partner saying ‘I do’ and have it engraved into the wedding ring, but we’d already done that bit and I kind of forgot to record it. You can record ‘I love you’ and have it put on, but I thought this was more us...”_

_I look at the pattern on the rings._

_“I recorded us having sex the other night.” I point at your ring, then at mine. “That’s the sound of my orgasm, and that’s yours.”_

 

 

I shake my head, astounded. “Wow. Just - wow. These are fucking perfect. They could not be more perfect...” I take the ring from the box and gaze at it. Then I take your hand.

“I’m a dark, violent man and I don’t want to be otherwise... I’m a reckless headcase who flirts with death and danger for fun ... I’m fucking mental, James Moriarty. No one has come even close to getting past my armour in this lifetime. You make me want to lay it down, so you can take as much of me as you desire. I will protect you with my life. I will give you everything I am. It’s yours.” I slide the ring over your finger. I hold your hand in mine, and kiss both rings.

Then I look up at you, smiling slyly.

“You _recorded_ us having sex?”

You look back at me innocently.

“Umm... That’s hot. I kinda need to hear that...”

 

 

_"It was after your striptease - that *was extremely* hot. And you managed to make me completely forget that I was recording it with that -" I swallow, "-quite *amazing* performance, so my orgasm is completely unselfconscious." I grin, get my phone out, find the sound file, and the sounds of 'Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing' come out of the tinny speaker. It makes the film play in my head, and I am sitting there wide-eyed and breathing shallowly. "Ehm... I'm afraid I'll never be able to hear this song again without having a brain crash... Oh my god Tiger, that was the hottest thing I've ever seen..."_

 

 

I grin at you. “Oh. It was my pleasure. No one has ever brought out my exhibitionist side quite like you. Or my submissive side or my masochistic side. You have a way of drawing everything out of the shadows... My delicious dark lord.” I lean in and kiss you. “Let’s hear this illicit recording...”

 

 

_"This is it - I'll forward to the non-musical bits-"_

_The unmistakable sounds of a cock being sucked and someone - me - enjoying it *very* much are coming out of the speaker. Despite the tinny sound, it does sound rather hot..._

 

 

My mouth drops open. "Oh my _fucking_ god. Do _not_ delete that... It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard..."

I laugh in delight and then shut my mouth so I don't miss a single second. I lean in closer to the phone, listening intently.

 

 

_My orgasm sounds over the beach. "There - that bit is in your ring. That first loud bit."_

_You laugh in delight. "Play it again!"_

_I scroll back a bit, play the last section again. You're beaming._

_"Don't look too smug - you're next," I grin, as our conversation sounds from the speaker, and before too long, it's your moans we hear, your 'Oh god Jim's, and finally, your orgasm - actual *roaring*._

_“You're quite the Tiger when you're aroused..." I grin. "That roar is on my ring." I hold it out to show you._

 

 

I shake my head. "Fuck. I can't believe you fucking recorded us, and I can't believe how hot we sound, and I can't believe those sounds are captured on our rings? You're a genius. My mad fucking romantic genius." I scoop you up and pull you onto my lap. My arms slide around you and I kiss you. Then my face screws up. "Sir. Um. Sorry. That wasn't very submissive, was it... Should I put you back?"

 

 

_"It's fine," I smile. "If you can't drag your master onto your lap and cover him in kisses when you get a wedding ring, when can you?" I stroke your ring. It's really beautifully made, especially considering I gave them one night to create them and get them over here. Goes to show that nothing is impossible, people just need the right incentive._

_I sip my drink, stroke your face, your neck... "How are you feeling now, Tiger? Both mentally and physically?" I can read you, but I need certainty. I am never assuming anything from you ever again._

 

 

"Top of the fucking world? Mentally, anyway. Physically - I was feeling no pain, but if I stop to focus, then - I'm feeling the effects of being thoroughly worked over by my dark lord and master - inside and out. I'm fucking sore. And tired. But, nothing out of the ordinary, really... The day isn't over yet and I'm good to go whenever you are."

 

 

_I'm feeling a bit guilty now - you're supposed to still be recovering, aren't you?_

_"Let's have a siesta, Tiger... It's what the Mexicans do and they should know about these things. And the afternoon has been quite intense, for both of us... I think we deserve a post-coital nap. We can continue afterwards..."_

_I look at the sun, move my beach chair so it's protected by the umbrella, move your towel before it. "There you go... like a proper Tiger, you can nap at my feet."_

 

 

I grin. Day of Domination continues... after being paused for one of the most romantic moments of my life.

The fact that I can now say 'one of the most romantic moments' is mind-blowing. Memories of our time together since you returned stream through my mind, and I feel so overcome. The shower in London. Our wedding vows, the carved initials. Our coke and tequila orgy. Asking you to own me again. You _singing to me_ in the kitchen. You buying me the villa as a wedding gift. Our sangria sunset after I rescued you from the intruders. Our motorcycle ride and sex on the boulder. The slow dance… oh god, the _slow dance_...

I sigh dreamily as I stretch out on the towel. I stare at my ring, and I feel the warm glow around my heart that I associate with you and being loved by you.

"I love you..." I whisper as my eyes close and I start to drift off.

 


	8. Tell Me a Story, Tiger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A special chapter - in which Sebastian tells Jim a faerie tale...

_You fall asleep pretty quickly, my poor sweet Tiger. I sit watching you for a bit, but feel my own eyelids go heavy. I've never slept so much as on this holiday... but I suppose that's what holidays are for? And - I've never felt so *relaxed* either. Maybe I would have slept more in the past if I had not been so hypertense all the time...?_

_I sit back, letting my mind drift. That's another thing I never used to be able to do... my mind was always working, always planning, hypothesizing, theorizing... it's so good to just have it be empty, filled with nothing but the sound of the waves, the feeling of warmth inside and out..._

_I move my foot so I'm touching you, my beautiful love, sleeping at my feet... after that quite spectacular fuck..._

_I must have a massive grin on my face as I drift off._

 

 

As I drift towards consciousness, I realize I've rolled off the towel and I'm lying partly on the sand - which does _not_ feel great on whipped skin. I wince and sit up to grab a large bottle of water from the table. I splash some on my hand, and rinse off some of the grains of sand that are stuck to my arm. The water feels so refreshing in the heat, so I end up pouring it over my head and letting it run over my torso. I shake the water out of my hair, and you must have got sprayed by it because you're waking up confused and sputtering. And I'm a complete idiot and start to laugh before pulling my head out of my arse.

"I'm _so sorry_ , Sir - I didn't mean to wake you up, obviously. Or laugh... obviously..."

I cover my face with my hand, grinning. "I'm a total knob and I throw myself at your mercy. I understand if you need to punish me, of course..."

 

 

_Whaaa- What?!_

_Cold water on me?! How...?!_

_I am shocked awake to find a laughing wet Tiger apologizing._

_Oh you bastard..._

 

_You suggest punishment, and I sigh._

_"Make me a coffee, first of all. I don't chastise well when I'm half awake..."_

_As you head off to the kitchen, I rub my face, look at the sun. It's only late afternoon, Tiger, and there's only so much punishment you can receive before there just isn't any body left to punish..._

_Though… I think I can think of something suitable._

_But. Coffee first._

_As you get back with a mug of coffee that doesn't look too bad, I take it from you, then glance at the side table. "That table is on the wrong side. I'm left-handed." As you walk to move it, I stop you. "No need. Get down here," I motion to the left side of my chair, "get on your hands and knees, make your back as horizontal as you can."_

_I adjust you a bit, then when you're reasonably level I place the hot mug on your back. "Don't spill any."_

 

 

OK, well if this is _all_ that happens, I’m getting off easy.

Oh. _Ow_. On my freshly whipped back, a hot coffee mug is feeling- Oh, Jesus... it’s getting worse.

I suck in my breath.

“Oh... Sir... is it OK to express that it’s soooo bloody hot...?” I wince. “I mean, I’ll take it - but I just have to say _holy shit this is fucking hot_. Is that all right?”

 

 

_"We-ell, I said you could express yourself unless instructed not to, didn't I? So please take this as your instruction not to. I'm trying to leisurely wake up with the calm sound of the sea, rather than being awoken by splashes of cold water and a swearing Tiger..."_

_I lift the mug, have a sip - oh, that's indeed hot. Best let it cool a bit first._

_I put it back, sit back in my chair, enjoying the sound of the breeze in the palm fronds, the waves... mmm..._

 

 

 _Murder murder murder_...

I _love_ my Kitten, I _love_ him...

And... it's OK to daydream about throttling the ones we love... right?

But then... how did I expect him to react to being woken up on his Day of Domination with cold water splashing his face?

It really was funny...

But I am in _no_ danger of laughing now.

I'll just enjoy the pleasant searing sensation of a hot coffee mug on my raw back...

while equally pleasant visions of murder dance through my head...

 

I think back to a few days into our honeymoon... when I point-blank asked you to own me, to put me back on the leash - without you even bringing it up. It wasn't even a question that that was what I wanted, needed, longed for...

Well then, my beloved Kitten... since you're the Boss of me, you go ahead and do whatever the fuck you want.

And if I'm very good and I take my punishment well... maybe you'll forget about today's little hiccups and I'll get the sex equivalent of a cookie.

 

 

_You’re trembling slightly when I place the mug back, but you’re not spilling. Such excellent control over your body..._

_I take my time sipping my coffee and looking out at the peaceful vista in front of me. I never used to take time for things like this... found them meaningless, thought people were just wasting their time staring at stuff when they could be working hard like I did. And - to be honest, they were meaningless. It’s feeling which gives them meaning, and feeling is right here beside me, holding my coffee. I let my hand rest on your back, the small point of contact so comforting, reminding me that you are here. You are here and will never leave._

_Also, you need more punishment._

_The combination of those two sensations, the comfort and the excitement, makes a delightful warmth spread through my body._

_I finish my coffee, tell you to take the mug to the kitchen and join me on the patio._

_As you arrive, I’ve put the shackles on the handy hook that you used a few days ago - it seems so much longer... the poor plant had been hung back but I think this is a much better use for the hook. The plant will have to deal with being a table plant._

 

 

Your hand on my back is comforting.

The rest of the experience is challenging as expected - I'm glad you decided on the nap earlier.

But your hand on my back - is everything.

And then I'm returning to the kitchen with this mug I'd like to just throw into the sea - but that wouldn't be very submissive, would it?

When I'm walking back to the patio, I see shackles suspended from the hook for the hanging plant. I'm guessing it's no longer a hanging plant - how could you resist using any implement that I could be secured to? I'll probably be instructed to put up more handy hooks and things all over the villa, so you can string me up wherever you like.

My cock twitches at the thought. _Down, boy_.

If this is punishment, it wouldn't do to show up aroused.

You turn to look at me, and seeing your face takes my breath away. Domination and administering pain bring something out in you that's electrifying.

"Sir." I say in a husky voice.

 

 

_That voice. That voice makes my knees weak and my cock stand up. God, that voice, Tiger... you don't even know you do it._

_I gesture at you to come here and you stand before me, waiting to see how I want you._

_I grab your shoulders and push your back against the post, kiss you hard and possessively. You respond immediately, yielding your mouth to my tongue, your body to my exploring hands._

_My beautiful submissive Tiger... mine..._

_I take your hands, raise them over your head, put your wrists into the cuffs, so you're secured with your hands over your head. We're still kissing - the only thing hotter than a yielding Tiger is a tied-up yielding Tiger..._

_I break off the kiss, stare into your eyes, dark and so deep..._

_Then I take a few steps back, grab the hose off the floor and spray you with its cold jet._

 

 

Oh god, you always did move fast - you're a fucking serpent. I'm pressed against the post in an instant, being kissed and groped and possessed.

And suddenly I'm in the familiar state of being trussed up, powerless and waiting...

Your lips are hot and sweet on mine...

Your eyes are a serpent's - hypnotic... mesmerizing... paralyzing...

and whatever I was expecting it was _not this_.

My body seizes reflexively at being sprayed with cold water and my mouth drops open. I quickly realize that's a bad idea, as the water sprays into my mouth and I'm choking and laughing my arse off - but laughing is partly what got me into this predicament, so I manage to rein myself in. I can't help but grin widely, though - the water is cold but refreshing and the look on your face is priceless.

"I guess I had _that_ coming, Sir..." I beam at you.

 

 

_Well, you take being hosed down with cold water remarkably well - I guess it must feel nice after the heat of the whipping and the coffee cups. You're grinning widely and I can't help but grin back. I walk around you, make sure every bit of you is sprayed. As a punishment, it doesn't seem very effective; but it's fun to play with water._

_There's that word again. That concept. Fun. I always used to think of fun as something that had to be intricate, complex, a labyrinthine puzzle, an involuted dance... if it wasn't a challenge it wasn't fun. And these past days - riding a motorbike. Playing with a fucking *hose*. I'm like a puppy - but it *is* fun..._

_What is that? Does having feelings make you more susceptible to fun? Or is it being in love? People who are in love do do strange things and seem to love them... Maybe that's it, maybe I'm just high on noradrenaline. But fuck it - let me enjoy it..._

_I strip my clothes off, lean my bare body against yours, dripping and cold, aiming the hose straight up so it rains droplets down on us, giggling at the cold._

_Then I release the thing and wrap my arms around you, kissing you... my lovely slightly chilly and damp Tiger..._

 

 

I was definitely not expecting the next bit either –

When you grin like a maniac and spray me mercilessly...

When you strip off and create a fountain of water that comes spraying down on us...

When you giggle helplessly at the cold water and stand soaking wet, pressed against my body, and kissing me...

You - who requires boiling hot temperatures in the shower and the bath... and in environments in general - are shivering against me and seemingly not in a hurry to stop kissing.

I kiss you on the nose and smile down at you.

I'm very curious about what you'll do next. Did that count as punishment or is it still coming?

 

 

_I know this is domination day but I keep feeling the urge to be incredibly sweet in between - and why not; submissive Tiger is an incredibly adorable Tiger. I release you, put my arms around your neck and jump my legs around your waist. “To the beach, my valiant knight,” I point._

_You grin and carry me to the chair, try to set me in it, but I don’t want to be in a chair, I want to be wrapped around you, so I say “No, the towel,” and we’re on the towel kissing, stroking skin which is warming up as the water evaporates, legs entangled, sand sticking to damp limbs, whispering sweetnesses..._

_“I love you, Sebastian, my Sebastian... I love you so much it hurts... I will never ever leave you again, never hurt you... I promise I’ll do my very best... you are so beautiful, so perfect, so wonderful... you’re everything I never knew I needed, and so much more... my love, my life...”_

_I’m nearly in tears. Good grief, I *have* gone soppy._

_Who cares. Certainly not Tiger, who’s beaming with love and delight at my words..._

 

 

My god, this day has had twists and turns. You are in such a delightful mood, now. Wanting to be down on the towel with me so we can tangle up in each other and kiss.

Touching your skin again after being deprived all day, feels _so_ intoxicating. I'm positively euphoric to feel you against me, your skin being stroked by my hands, kissed by my lips.

And _god_ , your words...

"I love you too, Jim - my beautiful dark prince... you make me _happy_. You're all I want," I whisper against your ear. " _All I want_ in this life is you."

 

 

_"You have me, Tiger... for ever..." I reach for your hand, twist your ring. "No end..."_

_I kiss your fingers, one by one._

_I roll on my back, look up at the sky. "Tell me a story, Tiger... a sexy story. Tell me about something you've fantasized about... or something you would like me to do, today, or some time. If I like the story, you may get your wish... If I don't like it... well..."_

_I look up at your face._

 

 

"If you don't like it... what? I'll get punished?" I grin.

 

 

_"I'll not do it if I don't like it, obviously," I shrug. "As to punishment... well, the day is still young, but I don't think you deserve punishment for having fantasies I don't like. Bad taste is unfortunately still not a punishable offence, or you'd be constantly under the lash... wait..."_

 

 

"A sexy story, huh?" I murmur, moving my hands lightly over your back. "OK, here's one. We connect with someone - either online or in a BDSM environment. We get together in a dive bar and have a couple of drinks. Then we take him home and dominate him together. Now we're both the jealous type, so there are certain parameters that have to be followed - otherwise we end up with a dead body and both of us sulking on opposite sides of the room - or worse.

I dominate the sub - but you dominate us both. You do what you like to either of us, or get me to do whatever you want to the sub. When we're done, they get cab money and five minutes to get the fuck out before one of us snaps.

Now I don't know how you feel about this, and I don't care if we do it... but it does sound hot." I grin.

"Or - I get to top you for an evening - tying you up, thrashing you, fucking you raw... whatever I fucking want. I got to do a little a few days ago, and... I could stand to do some more. I'd enjoy the fuck out of that..."

I kiss your neck and pull back to look at you. "Does either upset you?"

 

 

_My first response is anger, pain, jealousy, despair, disgust - you want someone else. Someone beside me. I’m not enough. I ask you for a fantasy, hoping for a nice story or even better, an idea on how I can give you a good time tonight, and your first thought is to bring someone *else* in. I want to punch you to get you to shut up._

_But I manage to suppress that wave for long enough to continue listening. And *somehow* I manage to actually listen, through the red haze in my mind._

_And I quickly realize - you don’t want someone else. You want to live out your sadistic side. Which I’ve always violently suppressed, unless it was aimed at others, but there it was always strictly work, no sexual intentions allowed._

_And yeah, then you say you want to dominate *me* for an evening._

_Huh. Of course. I’m a megalomaniac sadist, so I’d only ever explore your masochist side - which is quite significant - but I *know* you have a sadist inside you - and the poor guy has been caged for years._

_I take a deep breath. “I... have to admit it wasn’t quite what I had in mind,” I say, stroking your hand to reassure you that I’m alright._

_“But I can see where it’s coming from... you’re a violent fucker, and have a dominant streak, and I’ve never let that side of you come out in sex. I can get it’s frustrating._

_And... ok the first mention of someone else made my blood boil, but it’s not that you want someone else - you want to dominate, someone, anyone, and if I’m not available... it’ll have to be some other guy._

_So - do you want this person to be willing? Or could we just pick up anyone and dispose of them afterwards? Seems the safest option anyway...”_

 

 

"Oh - Sir, I'm so sorry. About the blood boiling. No, of _course_ I don't want someone else! Jim... " I put my hand on your arm, stare at you intently. "I thought you were in the mood to hear any fun fantasy, and it's just what popped into mind. I didn't mean that I wanted it to happen on our _honeymoon_ \- or that it has to happen at _all_. I mean - we already do things most people wouldn't even have the guts to say out loud to their partner - so I don't have a huge list of fantasies to choose from. You've been making sexual fantasies come true for years, ones that I didn't even know I had. So I'd need some time to think about what we haven't done that I'd like to do. The only other thing I can think of in the moment is role-playing, which you _used to_ refuse to do. But then we did it yesterday, and umm... it may have started out being silly, but _fuck_ it got hot..." I run the back of my hand along your shoulder and your cheek. "I think I understand now what you were looking for when you asked, and I'm sorry I'm an idiot. If you're still in the mood for a story, Jim - I have one for you now..."

 

 

_I kiss your hand._

_“No - Tiger, don’t apologize. You’re not an idiot. First of all, it’s a fantasy, not something you want to happen per se. Second - it does make sense, like I said. And - yeah, I think I’d be up for switching roles some time - it would be interesting, I guess - and it sounds hot, in an odd this-isn’t-quite-my-thing-but-now-I’m-actually-quite-fascinated kind of way. I’ve given over to you before - but I always was very much in control. I’d like to see what you get up to if you get complete free rein - and you can do what *you* like; not what I want you to do._

_So - good thought._

_I’m not sure I’ll be able to have you touch anyone else without killing you both though, so let’s not go there *quite* yet._

_And role play - yes, I found it really quite unexpectedly hot as well... my brave Knight..._

_But... now you got me intrigued. Do tell me this other story...”_

 

 

Relief surges through me. I wasn’t thinking it through when I first shared my fantasy - it could have gone _very_ poorly.

“Oh, I’ll tell you a story... Are you comfortable? Then - I’ll begin...

Once upon a time, there was a very bad man who wanted to hurt people. So he learned all the best ways to hurt people, and kill them. And then one day he finds himself walking along a long lonely road by himself. The road goes on and on and on, with no one in sight. And the bad man realizes he is lonely and he has no one. And it makes him feel very sad. And just in that moment, a stranger appears - the most beautiful man he has ever seen. Only he is clearly more than a man - he thinks he sees big black wings on the stranger for a moment, but he is obviously seeing things because it is dark - and he is - a little drunk.”

You giggle at that, and I grin and continue. “So the stranger says... ‘Hello’ and the bad man says ‘Hello... I thought I was alone on this long, dark road.’

And the stranger chuckles to himself, and says ‘Only if you want to be...’ “

I look at you slyly. “Can I get you anything, Sir? A drink? Something to eat?”

 

 

_“Nooo, I want more story!” I love stories. I love reading them - there is so much hidden depth to the stories everyone knows... I love telling them, spinning them - and I *especially* love listening to them told by a skilled storyteller. There’s a reason I chose that character to wind up Holmes..._

_I look at you pleadingly. I’m loving this story already._

 

 

"All right, where was I? Oh my, Sir - look at the dark clouds... I wonder if there's a storm coming. _Ow_... I'll just continue, shall I?" I rub my arm, grinning at you.

"And the stranger says, 'Only if you want to be.'

The bad man replies, 'Well, _no_ \- I've been on this dark, lonely road by myself for so long already and - I'm afraid I'll never have company again.'

And the stranger says, 'What if I said you could have company for this long, dark road - and you would never be alone again?'

And the bad man says, ‘But who would want to be with a man such as myself, once they saw his darkness?'

And the stranger looks at him and smiles... and he says, 'Maybe you need the company of one whose darkness rivals yours... or even surpasses it.'

And the bad man scoffs at this, because he has never met someone whose darkness is greater than his. But he also shivers when he sees the stranger's smile.

And the stranger says, 'My friend, we should discuss this further - but it looks like there's a storm approaching that you wouldn't want to be caught in. I know a comfortable inn just up ahead, if you want to join me for supper and a bit of company.'”

I look up at the sky. "It looks like it's heading right this way... You wanna stay out a bit longer?" I look at you, smiling, a challenge in my eyes.

 

 

_I smile at you. "I am the coming storm, sweetheart... until it actually starts, I'm happy staying here looking at the gathering darkening clouds whilst hearing this fantasy story about a hypothetical bad man..."_

 

 

"As Sir wishes..." I caress your face. "I'm glad you're enjoying this very wild, fanciful tale...

Where were we?

Oh yes, the bad man considers this, and finds to his surprise, yes he does want to join the stranger.

So they walk together a ways, before the stranger turns and walks into a forest on one side of the road.

And the bad man asks, 'Where are you going?' And the stranger says, ' _I know a shortcut_...'"

I stop and give you a knowing look. "Yes - if ever there was a bad idea...

Now the bad man is not a fool and recognizes that the stranger has some kind of ulterior motive and most likely isn't a trustworthy sort of fellow.

And he knows following a stranger into the woods is probably not the wisest thing he could do.

But - he is confident that he can take care of himself. And if he can’t - "

I look back as if checking for eavesdroppers, and my voice drops down in volume. "If he can’t - well this bad man has never once stepped back from potential danger. He craves it, you see - like most men crave food and drink, or riches, or the sins of the flesh. Well, the bad man likes all those things, too. But the lure of danger is like siren song to him. Now I'll ask your opinion - what to do you think the bad man should do? Keep walking down the lonely road? Or follow a stranger into a deep, dark forest?"

 

 

_"Well - the bad man didn't enjoy walking down the lonely road on his own - he was very sad earlier. And he did feel like he wanted to join the stranger. So - the *safest* route would be to walk on alone and sad. But like Paul Atreides said, the clear, safe course leads ever down into stagnation. So he should follow the stranger. He runs the risk of being murdered - but staying alive is so *boring*... - and he might find some of that danger he longs for - or other adventure. So yes - into the forest with your bad man."_

 

 

I raise an eyebrow.

"Right, into the forest we go...

The bad man follows the stranger along a path. But evening is upon them and it is getting darker.

Eventually he loses sight of the stranger, and can only hear his footsteps up ahead.

And he can’t ever catch up to the stranger, no matter how fast he goes.

The bad man isn't scared, but he’s very aware of the precarious situation he is in.

But he decides if he is going to meet his death, better here in the deep dark woods at the hands of a fascinating stranger than one day in the future, all alone on the lonely road.

At that moment the full moon rises above the trees and lights up a large clearing. The path crosses with another path that leads to a large manor surrounded by mists. What this manor is doing in the middle of the woods, the bad man can’t begin to guess. Suddenly the stranger appears out of the mist where the two paths meet.

And the stranger says, 'I thought of a place to stay that's much nicer than the inn. It's the house of my lord, and we can have dinner there and drinks and conversation by a roaring fire. You can rest and have somewhere to sleep. And in the morning, you can continue on your way or stay for longer. And I'm going to tell you where to find the companionship you crave.'

And the bad man says, 'That's nice, what's the catch?' because he isn't an idiot, only a little drunk and a little mad for danger.

And the stranger chuckles and says, 'Aren't you a clever bad man. Of course there's a catch. You have to do whatever my lord requires of you for one night. And you'll have to do it without question. But then you'll have the secret to the companionship you seek, so I assure you it will be worth it.'

And the bad man considers this and asks, 'Whatever your lord requires? Will he ask me to do atrocities like murdering lots of children and throwing puppies in rivers and such things?'

And the stranger laughs at this and says, 'No, nothing quite like that. In fact, you'll probably even enjoy it.'

And the bad man says, 'Oh, I'll even enjoy it you say...' And he _knows_ there is more to this arrangement than the stranger is letting on. Of course there is! But the bad man is dying to know what is in that manor and who this lord is and what he would be required to do...

So what now? Should the bad man actually agree to this, even though the whole thing might turn out very badly indeed?"

 

 

_"Same answer as last time. If he walks away, he'll be thinking of what he could have had all his life... it might be awful, and he might be murdered, and told he'll find his companionship in hell. Or he might be dismembered and blinded or whatever. But if he walks away... all he has is a sad lonely road. So - risk death and dismemberment to have the chance to gain his desires. Get into the house, meet the lord." I'm absolutely loving this. I had no idea you were such a good storyteller. *So many* talents I had no idea of, because I never let you express yourself freely._

 

 

I nod.

"A gambling man, I like it...

So the bad man says, 'All right, if I have your word that I can go free in the morning alive and unharmed.'

The stranger says, 'All right. And if you'd feel better, it'll be in writing. Wait right here...'

And the stranger disappears into the mist, and the bad man looks around and realizes - if he is going to leave, this is his chance. But the thought of returning to the long, lonely road is not enough to get him to leave this risky venture. So he waits and waits and waits.

And eventually the stranger returns and brings a piece of parchment that outlines the agreement. The bad man reads it through and sees that for what it’s worth, he will be free to leave in the morning, alive and unharmed - but that he has to agree to whatever the lord wishes for the remainder of the night. He sees the lord's signature but can’t quite make out the name. The stranger hands him a quill and ink, and the bad man signs his name. The stranger takes the parchment, smiles and leads him up the stairs and into the house. He leads him to a great hall where there is a table by a large roaring fire. He invites the bad man to sit and have some of the fine brandy that is on the table, and that he will see about procuring them some supper.

The bad man sits and drinks some brandy and finds it very fine indeed. He waits and waits and the stranger doesn't return. He begins to wonder if he should go and look for him, but he finds he is somewhat intimidated at the thought of running into this lord he is now beholden to - even though at the same time he is craving to see what he is like.

So now - should he wait as he was told? Or go looking for someone?

And - do you want to sit outside even though the storm is getting closer and closer?" I look up at the darkening sky and grin at you.

 

 

_"Please stop interrupting my story Tiger. I can see the storm... it's a bit away yet. There's nothing here that can't get wet, and it's awfully close - it'll be nice to get some nice rain._

_So your story - it's a Choose Your Own Adventure one? The protagonist will be eaten by a shark if I choose the wrong option?" You grin._

_"Right... So earlier he had to wait and wait and the stranger eventually came back. Also, he's supposedly beholden to this Lord, and presumably the stranger speaks for him. So - he should do as he's been bid, and stay at the table, and wait for someone to come."_

 

 

"OK, I just know you don't like to get wet..." I say innocently. "And it _is_ Choose Your Own Adventure… see, I would have chosen wandering through the manor. But let's see where this takes you... presumably there are no sharks in the forest or in the manor.

As much as the bad man is curious and impatient, he wonders if the requirements already began when he was told to wait. He doesn’t think it wise to break the agreement, so he stays where he is.

Enough time passes that he grows quite hungry and somewhat intoxicated by the brandy. He hears footsteps behind him and turns to see an older gentleman in a servant's uniform - he gestures at the bad man to follow him. And follow him he does - down a long hallway and through a large set of doors into a huge dining room. It’s dark and lit by dozens of candelabras. There is a long wooden table and large chairs. But the bad man sees no one else in the room as the servant leads him to his chair.

The servant proceeds to serve him a fine dinner - a fragrant potato leek soup, fresh-baked bread, roast potatoes and a tender, succulent steak that melts in his mouth, and goblets upon goblets of sweet red wine.

When he's had his fill, he sits at the table and wonders if he will ever meet this lord.

Just then the doors open, and in sweeps the stranger wearing a black silk robe embroidered with crimson and gold.

‘Did you enjoy your dinner?’ he asks.

‘Very much,’ the bad man says. ‘Do you know when the Lord will be joining us?’

‘Oh. I thought he was already here...’

The bad man looks up in surprise and the stranger smiles a sly smile.

‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am the Lord of this manor. And you are mine for the night...’"

I look at you and smile.

 

 

_I grin. I'd seen that coming..._

_"Ha! Good. No third parties involved. Oh dear - our protagonist is in for... interesting times..."_

_I move closer to you - it's very hot and sweaty today but I just keep having the need to touch..._

 

 

I caress your back and kiss your shoulder.

"The bad man is surprised but also not.

He says, 'A pleasure to make your acquaintance as well. What should I call you?'

'What's wrong with 'My Lord'?" he is asked, and he bows his head to the Lord.

"And what would you like me to do for you this evening?' the bad man asks.

The Lord regards him. "Whatever I ask, of course. When I ask it. Now - come with me."

The bad man stands and follows the Lord out of the dining room, into the hallway of doors.

The Lord opens a door and goes down a long sweeping staircase that seems to go on forever.

Eventually they get to the bottom and it leads to a set of double doors.

And these doors open up to a realm that is not of this world - Darkness. Fire. Strange trees and plants he has never seen before.

Otherworldly music that seems to get into the bad man's head and heart and enchants him. Bewitches him. Enthrals him.

The Lord beckons the bad man to come to him... and he walks up to him.

And the Lord says, 'I am the ruler of this realm. You'll find one night in your human world equals a few more in my realm. So we have some time to get acquainted. Shall we begin?'

And the bad man is shocked but not horrified by this development, even though he doesn't know how long he'll be in this strange place. And he says, 'Of course. What would you have me do?'"

I look at you and get up on my knees. "What does the dark Lord do next?"

 

 

_I ponder._

_"They have a few nights - so there's no rush. I think the first thing he does is show the man around in this dark realm. The companionship probably is tied in with this place, so the man has to get a feel for whether it is something that suits him and that he is suited for."_

_I look at you, your eyes getting darker as the clouds gather overhead._

 

 

I look up at the sky pointedly but you told me not to interrupt. I guess you'll decide when it's time for us to go in.

"So the lord is showing the bad man the realm. He sees the lands surrounding his palace with amazing creatures, dark fey and even demonic-looking beings. He sees tall mountains and rivers leading to a dark sea. The bad man is in awe of all this. Eventually he is led into the palace where he is given a brief tour - and each room he sees is more opulent than the last. Eventually he is led to a dark room which looks like a dungeon... and the dark lord closes the door behind them, which clicks as it shuts. And the otherworldly music starts playing again, which casts a spell on the bad man … and when he comes to, he finds himself chained to the wall."

I shake my head sadly. "Poor guy... I don't know how he's going to get out of this fix..."

 

 

_"He's not," I comment. "This is the bit where he has to do whatever the Lord wills - and he'll find he'll love it... But the poor Lord has no idea what he's letting himself in for, does he? Because this is no ordinary man..."_

 

 

"Poor Lord?" I repeat. "That's an interesting take on the story... you did hear the part about the bad man being chained to a wall?"

 

 

_"Ah, but it's often the person chained to the wall who has the real power in a story, isn't it? But - I should not interrupt - I want to hear the rest of the story..."_

 

 

"Depends on the story, I guess..." I smile at you.

"So the bad man is chained to a wall. Did I mention he's naked? He is. The jury's still out on if he has the real power, but it's not looking good for our anti-hero.

The bad man says, 'What do you want with me?'

And the Lord says, 'I have been alive for so long, and so little pleases me anymore. I've decided I need a companion - a consort to rule with me.

But to be worthy of me, I need my potential mate to be strong, loyal, devoted, passionate, and well-suited to my tastes and desires... and whenever I test someone they always fail me. If you can make it through the testing period, you will have the choice of remaining here in the underworld with me... or leaving for your own world...'

The bad man says, 'You said I could leave safe and unharmed in the morning...'

The Lord replies, 'I thought I explained time moves differently here? Are you even paying attention? If you're still alive by the time morning comes around in the human realm... you're free to leave.'

The bad man says, 'I have to point out that I feel I've been tricked...'

And the Lord says, 'Oh, _who_ could have foreseen that there would be a trick? I strongly recommend you start worrying less about the agreement and more on keeping me amused... or the agreement will be quite irrelevant to your fate...'

Still think the man in chains has all the power?" I ask you, winking.

 

 

_I'm laughing as I recognize my voice - and oh yes, that's something I'd say._

_"That's not a fair rendition of reality," I protest, "you had every chance to leave..."_

 

 

"This is _not_ reality, it's a story," I correct. "A _fantasy_. With parallels to reality to make it interesting...

and as for fair… _Honey_... since when have you cared about fair?" I grin and nudge your shoulder.

 

 

_"Fair enough," I grin. "Alright, so the man is naked and in chains, and at the mercy of the Lord. He may or may not survive the ordeal, which will last for several days... "_

_I look thoughtful, put my finger to my bottom lip. "So tell me... in these dire circumstances, how is the man's cock responding?"_

 

 

I laugh out loud. "Out of all the things you could ask, _that's_ the detail you're curious about?

OK... not quite at attention. But interest is definitely piqued. The thrill of danger is making things... a little exciting.

Anything else you'd like to know?"

 

 

_"Oh no, Tiger, you are not paying attention to your own tale if you think that's a mere detail. That's the essence of the story, the crux of the relationship between the Lord and the man. If the man were just displeased at being chained, scared at being helpless, reluctant at the thought of what he might experience at the hands of the Lord... he'd have a very unpleasant night, and likely not survive. But if he's intrigued, excited, an enthusiastic participant... then like Julie in the 120 Days of Sodom, he might be spared the horrid fate that befell the others in his position, and he may well blossom in circumstances that proved too much for others.."_

_I smile broadly._

 

 

I bow my head. "Point taken, Sir. So the bad man's cock has taken an interest in the proceedings and is starting to show excitement.

The Lord of course notes this. He says, ‘I am going to put you through a series of tests over the next three nights, each more difficult than the last - I will not tell you what's being tested. Are you ready to begin?'

The bad man says, 'Wait!'

The Lord pauses and looks at him questioningly.

And the bad man says, 'OK, ready.'

And the Lord is perplexed. He leaves the bad man in his dungeon room for a time.

And when he returns... the Lord brings knives with him, many sharp and beautiful knives. and cuts his flesh - all over his body. Nicks and shallow slices and deeper cuts from which he drinks his blood.

And the bad man does cry out, throughout the night - but not in fear.

And in the end, he weeps - but not in sadness.

By the time he is done cutting him and has drunk his fill, the Lord looks him over and sees that the bad man is fully hard. And he says, 'This isn't part of the test, but if you like I can take care of that for you... Otherwise, you'll be given a room to rest and recover in until tomorrow night.'

Now the bad man has to consider - the Lord has been tormenting him all night, pleasurable though it may have been. If he has the choice, should he choose to rest and regain his strength for the next trial? Or let the Lord do what he offered - but who knows what he may be subjected to?”

 

 

_"Hmmm..." I consider this. "Both seem like a good choice... It would be nice if the Lord would take care of it *and* let him rest. But - the Lord said this wasn't part of the test, but then he's not been a very reliable negotiator so far. And the man is young and strong... so I'd say go for the dangerous option, again. Show the Lord he is compatible. Find out what the Lord can give him..."_

 

 

I look down, smiling. "Yes, I think I'd do the same in his position...

The bad man says, 'I thank you for your offer. It would be such an honour, and I humbly accept.'

And the Lord uses his hand and it is magnificently done... buuut he takes his sweet-arse time. He increases the pace and then slows down just when the bad man is close... He stops to talk at key moments... about things like gossip, plots and intrigues in the realm. And the bad man has no idea why on earth this should be of interest to him. And eventually he gets to a place where he is weeping and begging for release.

And the Lord says, 'Oh, you had only to ask...' and he brings him to one of the most intense orgasms of his life.

Even though at this point in his life the bad man has had so many orgasms with so many people, this one still stands above the rest."

I see irritation cross your face, and I wince inwardly. Idiot.

"Obliterates all memory of them, actually. Now all he can think of is how he can get another one from this Lord during his stay... while he’s trying not to get killed."

I feel a few light drops of rain but they're infrequent and widely spaced out. I look at you to see what you want to do.

 

 

_The rain is lovely - warm and welcome after the hot and humid afternoon we have had. I welcome it, spreading my body out to catch the drops. I do a mental inventory - our phones are inside, nothing here will suffer from getting wet._

_Thunder rolls far out over the sea. This promises to be a *good* storm..._

_“So... what happens next?” I’m entranced by the story; can’t wait to hear what the Lord has in store for the coming nights..._

 

 

"Well, the Lord tells him he will see him tonight and to rest up, and starts to leave.

And the bad man thinks, 'Oh no, am I going to be left chained up all day?' but he remembers what the Lord said about asking, and calls after him, 'My Lord, can I please have somewhere comfortable to rest before I see you tonight? I want to look and feel my very best for you...'

And without looking back, the Lord moves his hand and the chains just fall off him! And then the servant comes in and shows him to a bedroom and a bathing chamber with heated water. There is a servant waiting for him, wearing a hooded red robe - he bathes him and the bad man watches the blood wash away in the water. He asks, 'How long have you worked in this place?'

And the servant says, 'I have always been here...'

When the bathing is done, the servant in red proceeds to tend to his wounds and rubs them with healing salve and bandages the deeper ones.

'Do you like working for the Lord of the manor?' the bad man asks.

And the servant says, 'He is a very great Lord, and it is an honour to serve him...'

He then shows the bad man to his bedroom - who is so exhausted by his trial, that he drops into bed and he is asleep before his head hit the pillow...

 

 

_"Always wise to ask," I nod._

_The rain is picking up, thick drops making little craters in the sand next to us and splattering on our skin, but they are still quite few and far between. They feel lovely, actually. One of them splatters on your thigh and the droplets flying off it tickle my nose, making me pull a face, which makes you laugh and stroke my cheek._

 

 

I'm a bit surprised you haven't wanted to go in, but it _is_ exciting feeling the storm brewing around us... and the covered patio is close enough to dash to if it starts to pour.

I continue to caress you as the story unfolds...

"Well, the bad man sleeps the day away, and is woken up to eat another fine supper by himself.

He is once again met by the Lord who takes him back to the dungeon room, and again he hears that bewitching music and finds himself in chains - only this time he's chained to a bed.

And the Lord tells him tonight's trial - he mustn't have an orgasm until he's been given permission.

And the bad man feels grateful that he chose to have an orgasm after the last trial... but then he remembers how pleasurable it was and this makes him groan.

The Lord waves his hand, and all his cuts open and the bandages disappear as if they were never there.

So now the bad man is bleeding all over and the Lord is upon him, drinking his blood, and weakening him... and then he's using his _mouth_ on him. But it doesn't feel subservient in the least, it feels like the sweetest torment because he can't come and it's all he can think of.

But he manages, he _manages_ to hold on… but it leaves him sobbing with frustration... and need... and longing.

And finally he's begging for release.

And the Lord looks up and smiles at him. ‘Oh, you finally thought to ask... Permission granted,’ and he returns his mouth to the bad man's cock, and the orgasm is so intense, it obliterates even the memory of the one before.

And the Lord again gives him a choice - to return to his bedroom to rest, or to speak with him further." I laugh. "I already know what you're going to choose. Speak with him further to get more information, right? Shall I continue?"

 

 

_"Am I so predictable?" I pout. "Yes, please... I love a good story, and this is the best one I've heard in years."_

 

 

"Predictable is _not_ a word I would use to describe you, ever… but _certain_ choices you're more likely to make."

My hand gently moves up and down your calf.

"So. The Lord opens the door and calls for the servant, and speaks to him in the hall. He again waves his hand and the chains fall off the bad man. He tells the bad man to get cleaned up and he'll be brought back to him.

So the red-robed servant again bathes the bad man and cares for his wounds.

And the bad man says, 'Is there anything I should know about the Lord in order to stay alive?'

And the red-robed servant says, 'He's already told you everything you need to stay alive...'

And he gestures at the bad man to follow him. He is taken outside and left to wait in a garden. It is early morning and still dark out.

The Lord appears noiselessly from behind a tree, and beckons him. The bad man joins him and they begin to walk.

The Lord points out different types of plants in the garden, some baneful, some beneficial. He speaks of his underworld realm and the different areas to be found in its boundaries.

'And how go the trials?' the Lord asks him in a friendly manner.

The bad man is surprised by this, but tells him he thinks they're going well. He's survived two nights, and is feeling cautiously optimistic about the third night.

'And if it doesn't work out? Will you regret not leaving when you had the chance?' the Lord asks, studying his face.

'Never,' the bad man says. 'For I wouldn't be who I am if I turned down a dangerous adventure...'

The Lord nods, and says, 'It's time for you to rest. For today will be the biggest challenge of all.'"

A loud peal of thunder is heard and lightning brightens up the darkening sky.

I laugh and look at you. "Very timely..."

 

 

_“You’re an amazing storyteller, Tiger. I can’t believe the lengths you went to to get the right special effects...”_

_The drops are still thick and warm but falling harder and faster now. I’m still not keen to move, but it’s probably not wise to stay here with how near the lightning is getting._

_Reluctantly I get up, closely followed by you, and we walk to the house. I pick up the toy bag - probably best not to let everything get wet, it might rust or something._

_Inside we switch on lights and you light a few candles, incurable romantic you are. I grab two beers from the fridge and get onto the sofa, gesturing for you to join me._

_“Great storytellers get rewards...”_

_I snuggle up to you, looking at the lightning over the sea, sipping my beer._

 

 

I kiss your hand. "Thank you, Sir. I'm so glad you're enjoying it.

So like the previous night, the bad man is taken to his room and he falls asleep before his head hits the pillow.

Late the next day, the bad man is awoken as before - to eat a fine supper. But this time the servant seems distracted and rushed.

When the bad man has finished his meal, he waits and waits - but the Lord doesn't come.

Eventually the red-robed servant enters the room and rushes over to him.

'We have taken over the Manor,' he says. 'And the former Lord is in chains. Go - you are free from your agreement.'

And the bad man laughs. 'Well played. But clearly this is part of the test.'

'It is _not_ ,' says the red-robed servant.

'Let me see your face,' the bad man challenges him.

And the red-robed servant lowers his hood, and the bad man is surprised to see a younger man than the Lord. A young, attractive man with eyes like a wolf.

'Well, I still don't believe you,' says the bad man. 'So I'm not going anywhere...'

The red-robed servant scoffs. 'Do you want to see him in chains?'

And the bad man scoffs back. 'Easy enough to stage. But by all means - show him to me in chains.'

And so the red-robed servant leads the bad man to the dungeon room and locks him in.

And he comes face to face with the Lord chained naked to the wall... bruised, beaten, bloody...

and weeping.

And he stops crying when he sees the bad man, but he can’t wipe away his own tears.

So the bad man wipes the Lord's tears away for him.

'What happened here?' the bad man asks in shock.

And the Lord laughs as he sniffles. 'I forgot - power is not always enough...' he says cryptically.

And the bad man feels his heart squeeze as he sees the Lord's suffering. Then he remembers - surely this is part of the test?

'So. Tell me, how do I pass the final test? Do I help you escape? Kill the people who did this to you?' he asks, feeling very clever.

And the Lord looks angry. 'You think this is about _you_... the test is _over_ , foolish mortal. Leave while you can.'

And the bad man refuses. 'If I leave, I fail the test. No way.'

Just then, the red-robed servant with the wolf eyes walks in.

'Oh, you're still here? Then _you_ get to watch while I kill your former Lord. And that will make me the new Lord of the realm. Your agreement will be null and void and you'll be free to leave immediately, unharmed.'

'Are you actually the Lord in disguise?' the bad man guesses.

'Yes,' the Lord says.

'No!' the red-robed man snaps. 'Don't be ridiculous. And don't listen to him, he'll say any lie to get to you... he is the king of lies...'

'Don't be foolish. Kill him and you can either go free or rule the realm with me and have the companion you always dreamed of...' the Lord says.

'Don't be foolish. Kill _him_ and you can go free and stop his tyrannical reign. How many men have died while he looked for a companion? If it's companionship you seek, you could stay and get to know me - I won't force you into a tricky agreement...' the red-robed man says.

The bad man is very confused about what to do.

The Lord has treated him fairly well under the circumstances and given him the dark adventure of a lifetime. And he could imagine himself spending an eternity getting to know him.

But the man with wolf eyes he had felt an instant attraction and connection to. And he wants to spend time with him and learn who this mysterious being is.

The Lord and the man with wolf eyes are glaring hatefully and cursing each other.

And the man with wolf eyes draws a knife out of his robe, and runs at the Lord.

And the bad man steps in between them and grabs the knife - and they both hold onto the hilt, struggling to get control of the knife.

'Kill him!' shouts the Lord.

'Kill him!' shouts the red-robed man.

And the bad man still has no idea if this is for real or part of the test, but he has to decide something before the knife is plunged into the Lord and it is too late.'"

I turn to you and raise my hands. “What should the bad man do?”

Thunder gets even louder, and the sky gets even brighter and I laugh in amazement.

 

 

_I snuggle closer, grateful for the huge windows that give us an unobstructed view of the sea and the magnificent storm over it. It’s quite spectacular in itself, and with this amazing story... this is turning out to be a rather great day._

_Once again I’m amazed at the amount of hidden talent inside you. Is there nothing you can’t turn your hand to? Stripper, storyteller... you were wasted as a mere assassin._

_So now the story got to a pivotal point and I need to make a decision - and it’s a difficult one._

_“Hmmm... this is a very hard question. Of course it’s a test... so if the Lord just wants to test obedience, the man could kill the wolf-eyed guy and be done with it. But if the Lord just wanted an obedient servant he could have got one anywhere. So it’s also a test of insight and intelligence..._

_and it’s a fairy tale. And in fairy tales, the eyes are important. They often tell the truth hidden behind a magical glamour. Why does the red-robed man have wolf eyes? Is he, in fact, an enchanted wolf?_

_I’d say, the man should look deep into the eyes of the Lord, and that should give him his answer.”_

 

 

"Look into the eyes of the Lord - got it."

I kiss your lips tenderly.

"The bad man manages to keep the knife still just long enough to look into the Lord's eyes.

And he sees what he had not seen because he was in such awe of the Lord - he sees the eyes of a wolf...

And time seems to stand still, as he holds the knife away from the Lord.

And the Lord says, 'Plunge the knife into my heart and be free.'

And the bad man finds himself weeping.

'I don't want to...' he cries.

'You must -' says the Lord. 'This is the final test.'

He turns and looks into the wolf eyes of the red-robed man. 'He's told you everything you need to know...' he says softly and gives him the knife.

And the bad man looks at the knife in his hand and before he can falter he plunges it into the heart of the Lord.

And weeping, he turns and faces the red-robed servant.

'Why did he have to die?' he sobs.

'It was time for the old story to end, and a new one to begin...' the red-robed man says softly, and places his hand on the bad man's cheek.

Then he reaches out that hand; the bad man takes it, and they walk out of the dungeon.

And they walk up the stairs, and out into the garden of the realm... that faces the mountains and the sea.

And the Lord pulls off the red robe, and stands naked before his chosen Consort.

And his Consort pulls off his clothes, and stands naked before his Lord.

'So it was you all along??' the Consort asks in amazement.

The Lord holds the face of his Consort in his hands. 'I'm so happy to not have to be that cruel, lonely Lord anymore. I still plan to torture you, of course - but I promise you'll enjoy it.'

'I knew it was you...!' the Consort laughs. 'I _knew_ I'd win...'

'Yes, you're very clever... Now do shut up,' the Lord says. 'And kiss me as I long to be kissed...'

'I was hoping for more than a kiss,' the Consort says, but their lips meet at last - and the kiss is sweet and full of longing after a lifetime of waiting.

'Ah, my love... Don't you know all faerie tales end with a kiss?' The Lord sighs and soon they lie down in the garden, kissing and touching each other.

'And then? How does the next one begin?' the Consort asks in between kisses."

I lean in and softly kiss your lips. "How does the next one begin, my Lord?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> A Forest - The Cure  
> Astronomy Domine - Voivod  
> Crucify - Emma Hewitt  
> Haunted - Evanescence  
> Poison - Meg Myers  
> I Put a Spell on You - Marilyn Manson  
> Hollow Hills - Bauhaus  
> Slice of Life - Bauhaus  
> Haunted When the Minutes Drag - Love and Rockets  
> Cuts You Up - Peter Murphy  
> Bloodletting - Concrete Blonde  
> King Volcano - Bauhaus  
> Socrates the Python - Peter Murphy  
> Who Killed Mr. Moonlight - Bauhaus  
> The Song of the Sibyl - Dead Can Dance  
> Sanvean (I am Your Shadow) - Lisa Gerrard  
> Strange Kind of Love - Peter Murphy


	9. Deviant Fuck God

_That was an amazing story. You do realize you’re going to have to do a striptease followed by a bedtime story every night now?_

_But the ball is in my court... how does the next story begin?_

_“It begins like every good story begins… on a dark and stormy night...”_

_I look outside, where the sky is nearly black and the palm trees are whipping in the wind. Rain lashes against the patio doors._

_I’ve always loved storms... they seem to sweep away boring mundanity when their full force is unleashed upon the world._

_“The Lord explains to his Consort that no one has ever passed the tests, because no one has ever been tested... it wasn’t until he spotted the man walking the lonely road that he realized he was himself lonely, and longed for company._

_The man called himself a bad man... but that was a stigma put on him by an uncomprehending society, who didn’t see what the Lord with the wolf-eyes saw... because when he looked into the man’s eyes... he saw the eyes of a tiger. And he knew he was no longer alone.”_

_I get up, take your hand. “And the Lord takes his Consort by the hand, and says ‘Come, let us be free, like the wild beasts we are; come and let us dance through my realm, which now is our realm...’”_

_I open the patio door and nudge you outside, pull you by the hand, start running to the beach. We’re soaked in an instant, the wind whips our hair, and I howl into the gale._

_You laugh, throw your head back and roar, and I grab you, and we whirl, and we run, and we cheer and shout into the storm, in wild abandon, and it feels*good*, to let go, to release all thought into the wind, let it blow away all the soot and cobwebs that have gathered in my mind._

_“And the Lord says to his Consort, ‘I am the storm!’” I call at you, the wind whipping my hair over my face, my expression elated._

 

 

My eyes widen as you pick up the thread of the story and continue. Oh, _Jim_...

And then you're taking my hand and pulling me outside into the storm. And you start to howl and I'm laughing my arse off and roaring, and we're running and shouting like mad things through the pouring rain and screaming wind –

And you shout through the wind that _you are the storm_ , and it sets me ablaze to see you come alive in the violence of the weather - this is truly your element.

I have never seen you more clearly.

I have never loved you more.

"And the Consort replies to the Lord, 'As I am wedded to the storm, how I would love to ride the storm!" I shout back over the roaring wind. I grip your arms and pull you against me into a fierce kiss.

 

 

_It's magnificent to be kissing in the storm... at the edge of the land, next to the raging sea, lashed by rain and wind, deafened by the roar of the storm in my ears; it feels like I could fly, just spread my arms and soar on the tempest..._

_You are standing strong and stable when everything about us is in turmoil; your arms around me, your skin wet and cold from the storm, your mouth hot and intense. God, my Tiger... So symbolic, you being my stable anchor when the world is going mad around us and I'm tempted to let myself soar the madness..._

_Your warm arms remind me that storm is cold and I don't really like cold. I move out of your embrace and lead you back to the house, where you close the patio doors behind us as I get two fluffy towels._

_I'm shivering a bit and you towel me dry vigorously, rubbing hard to get the blood going, which warms me up a bit, and then I have a brilliant idea - there's a fireplace in the living room, but it's been too warm to use it up to now. This is the perfect occasion to light it, though._

_"Can you put your Boy Scout training to good use and light us a fire?"_

_You poke your tongue out at me referring to the SAS as the Boy Scouts; no dear, I know it was all gruelling ordeals in enemy territory and not fun and games in Epping Forest. Still. It seems to involve a lot of similar skills. One of which is fire - you could light a fire in a swimming pool while it's raining._

_As you busy yourself with that I nuke some food in the kitchen - there were plenty of leftovers in the fridge and I don't feel like spending a lot of time cooking. I want to be in the living room, where you are._

_We eat and drink, chatting about Game of Thrones and sword-fighting, swooning over our rings, relaxed, laughing... *happy*._

_I've never been so happy for so long as these past days..._

_The living room looks lovely and cosy lit only by candles and the fire, with the storm still lashing the windows, though less hard than before._

_When you clear up the dishes, I fiddle with the music system, and when you come back from the kitchen, I hold out my hand._

_"I said I wanted to dance to every track on your playlist with you. I doubt this one will be on it... But I hope it will be on any new one you make."_

_The first notes of Queen's You're My Best Friend drift through the air._

 

 

My hand rises to my mouth, and my shoulders start to shake. My eyes close and I feel tears squeeze from the corners.

I hear you cross the room and feel your hand on my shoulder. I open my eyes and look at your worried face.

I smile at you tremulously. "Number - seven..." I whisper.

Several emotions flit across your face - sorrow, guilt, and then love.

"I have a lot to make up for, Sebastian..." you say softly. "Would you do me the honour -?"

You tentatively hold your hand out, and I take it without hesitation.

"Of making my dream come true?" I say hoarsely. "Happy to, my love..."

I pull you towards me and enfold you in my arms.

_Ooh you're the best friend that I ever had_

I close my eyes. One hand presses against your back, and the other cradles your head.

I exhale, nestle my head against yours and begin to move us in a slow circle.

 

 

_Oh..._

_Oh my god..._

_This was on your playlist._

_The playlist you made for me. Which is still making my head spin._

_Oh my god..._

_Tears spring into my eyes as well._

_You longed for friendship... with me._

_Somehow that thought makes me feel as if I just got smacked around the head and I reel._

_Friendship. That incomprehensible... *thing* that normal people do, which I never could get my head round. It seems like people spend time with one another and get kind of mildly addicted to each other._

_But some more than others, based largely on shared interests and similar sense of humour._

_I never got the deal with friendship - I could see love, which seemed to involve sex, which I got the appeal of, but friendship - there didn’t seem to be any benefit to it except itself. And it appeared to be a big deal to people - everyone seemed to have friends, and those that didn’t, presented it as a huge problem. ‘I don’t have any friends’ so much worse than ‘I don’t have family’ or ‘I don’t have a partner’._

_Something so essential and so basic and so baffling to the ratio... and you wanted that - you didn’t have that..._

_You didn’t really have many friends when I met you, but any you had were gone pretty quickly when I took over your entire existence._

_And you longed for it, of course you did - normal people need friends! And you chose *me*, of all people, as the person you wanted to be your friend. The person who never had a friend in his life –_

_... until now._

_Oh my god Sebastian you do love impossible goals don’t you... and you did it... you only went and did it... got James Moriarty to be your best friend._

 

 

So many memories are swirling through my mind from before you died - the fun moments of banter, taking the piss, killing time together on a job, hanging out in the apartment in comfortable silence until somebody said something snarky, or affectionate, or mundane. Even if you hadn't seen it that way, you were the closest thing I'd had to a best friend in years. I'd just wished at the time that you felt that way, too...

So for you to play this song for me now...

My eyes are wet with tears.

I feel your arms around me, your hands lightly running along my back.

I breathe in your scent. I kiss your hair.

We've danced to three songs on my playlist, and each time I've been awestruck. Speechless.

Only I'm not as speechless as I thought, because I hear myself singing,

"You know I'll never be lonely

You're my only one

And I love the things I really love the things that you do

Ooh you're my best friend..."

 

 

_Tears are running down your cheeks as we dance, as you kiss my hair. And then you start singing, your voice hoarse, croaking, but it's the most beautiful song I've ever heard._

_"Ooh, you make me live..."_

_I agree with Freddie._

 

_The song ends and I hold you close as 39 plays in the background - I doubt you have any special feelings about that, nor is it very danceable, so we just stand there, holding each other so close, as I'm still staggered from having found a friend, after 36 years of not quite seeing the point. I think I do see it now - it's like love, but complementary. The companionship, the laughter, watching stuff together and bantering about it, getting drunk together - basically enjoying spending time with each other which isn't romantic or sexual, but still very enjoyable._

_We kind of did that Before, but I never would have thought of you as a friend. I didn't have - friends. Nor did I have time for that kind of normal-people bullshit._

_And I still don't. I don't need friends. I just need one._

 

 

I sigh as we sway slightly to the music.

I feel so goddamn happy it almost hurts... not only have I found the love of my life, but he's a deviant fuck god, and he happens to be my best friend. What will we get up to next on our endless romantic adventure together? It doesn't even matter, as long as I'm with you.

"Today was not entirely what I was expecting... but it was a really good fucking day. Did you enjoy it, Sir? Not that it's over yet..." I smile as I caress your hair.

 

 

_"I loved it. And... I'm not saying *anything*... but did you notice it's the *only* day that we haven't had a massive crisis? It's almost like it's the natural order of the world, or something..." I grin._

 

 

"Are you sure?" I stop to think. "Hmm... I don't think there was a _massive_ crisis on the first day here - maybe some mini-crises before we arrived. But point taken. Ha _ha_... isn't it an interesting coincidence that when Tiger's on a tight leash, nothing terrible happens... you're an adorable control freak, you know that?”

 

 

_"I am indeed," I grin._

_"So, I asked for a sexy story hoping it would give me some ideas of what you liked... and I got an amazing fairy tale. Your business card is getting more and more interesting... Sebastian: Sniper, Stripper, Storyteller, Sex Slave, Strangler..._

_So... " I say, looking into your eyes, "I think we'll dispense with the last trial - I'm absolutely rubbish at bilocation - but I imagine I can give you the first two..." I move my head up, whisper as I move along your jaw... "Chain you up... drink your blood..." and when I get to your ear, I breathe inside it.. "and make you beg to come..."_

 

 

My breath catches in my throat and a shiver moves through me.

"Oh..." I say, feeling almost dizzy. " _Oh_."

I laugh breathlessly. "I'm sorry, I - lost the power of speech momentarily. But I guess I won't need it except to say... please."

You turn your gaze on me and I feel paralyzed. It's all I can do to keep breathing...

 

 

_I can feel my face change as I look at you. It's - not the old Moriarty face. Not *quite*. But it's very close. It's the face that can bring you to your knees with just a small motion of the eyes._

_I see you recognize it, I see your face change too. This is our old dynamic, but with the new one - you know you're safe, you know I won't harm you, you know I would stop if you would ask me to. You also know, as well as I, that you would never ask me to._

_It's stronger than it's been so far - the rest of the day you submitted - but you were still snarky, cheeky Sebastian. Now, you've gone - deeper. As have I. The surroundings seem perfect - the room lit by candles, by the fire - enough like a dungeon in a dark realm._

_I take the shackles from the bag, walk to a wooden post in the centre of the room, which ever so conveniently holds yet another hanging plant. Really, hanging plants are the sadist's foliage of choice. I climb on a chair, and this plant, too, is temporarily joining its simple windowsill brethren, as I attach the shackles to the post, lead them round. You stand next to me, naked, your eyes wide and dark, waiting for my instructions._

_"Back to the post," I say, quietly, and you do, reaching up your hands, which once again feel the shackles close around them._

 

 

Oh. Fuck.

That. Face.

Staring me down as you step off the chair and back a ways...

Regarding me assessingly as I stand before you naked, shackled, and as ever, at your mercy.

And under your thrall...

the night is in my veins.

 _You_ are in my veins.

I don't know if it was the story, tapping into your dark majestic core...

Or the dark and stormy night that we find ourselves in, the wind screaming in the background, the rain pelting against the windows...

but it truly feels like we're the embodiments of the characters in the next phase of the fairy tale...

The Consort in chains.

The Lord ruling the realm.

The Consort's heart pounding as his Lord approaches.

The Lord smiling cruelly as he gazes at his Consort.

Lightning flashes and lights up the sky.

Oh. Holy. _Fuck_.

 

 

_*Thank* you, special effects. Queen has been turned off - we don't need any sounds but the thunder, the rain, and the sweet, sweet sounds that will come soon from my Consort... will there be gasps? Of course there will be gasps. And moans, and groans. But will there be cries? Soft, sweet weeping?_

_The night is ours, my Consort... let us begin our dance..._

_I take out the knife, my favourite knife, the knife with which it all began, all those years ago, the knife with which I recarved your M on our first night here. It reflects the candlelight and for a moment the flickering makes it seem like a thing alive, a magical knife, licking in blood lust, held by the Lord with the wolf eyes to enchant the Consort with the tiger eyes..._

_I move very close to you, stroke your body with the knife. Your arms... your chest... your sides... your neck. You hold perfectly still, barely even breathing. As always, I marvel at the throbbing veins just under the skin, so close to my knife... I'd just have to move the blade one centimetre, and you'd be bleeding to death in my arms. So vulnerable, human life... And I hold it literally in my hand._

_And of course I'm not going to cut it. But there is that little voice - the Imp of the Perverse, as Poe calls it - that suggests I do, just do it... go on, destroy your world, with one little gesture..._

_Not today, Satan. Today I am the Lord and I have this new Consort who has strong rich blood pumping through his veins, keeping his muscles oxygenated, keeping him alive, and as his life is mine, so shall his blood be..._

_I move the knife over your clavicle, swiftly, shallowly, and the magnificent dark ruby beads well up._

 

 

God, I know you so well... I know when you're contemplating life and death poised on the edge of a knife. My death specifically - but it seems likely that this would bring about your death fairly swiftly on its heels. It's a strange thing to see the potential for murder in your lover's eyes and perhaps stranger still that it doesn't upset me. You are who you are and expecting these thoughts to stop arising in you would be like demanding a scorpion expel the venom from its body. You're my deadly fragile beautiful love... like a delicate baneful plant growing in a poison garden. I will never not find you beautiful for the death and darkness you carry within. Yeats wrote of the _terrible beauty_ of an Irish uprising in 1916 which brought death and devastation; for me there can be no more terrible beauty than you.

I keep still, barely breathing until the moment passes.

And a new moment begins as the Lord slices willing flesh and blood gently rises to the surface of the skin - all for _him_ to consume and grow stronger.

Drink me, my terrible beauty... I'm yours for the taking.

 

 

_You... sink into it, is the best way to describe it, I guess. As I cut, your head moves slightly back, as do your shoulders, giving me full access to this bit of you, a red line appearing where what was a continuous stretch of skin has been separated into two parts, cells destroyed by the hard metal, blood vessels burst to let the precious elixir of your life leak out, for me... to drink like Dracula, to take in the essence of you, pumped straight from your heart..._

_I bring my mouth to the cut, lick the bead that has started to trickle down, then close my lips and suck._

_The taste is indescribable... it’s you, it really is, an iron tang but with a slight smokey taste, and sweeter than anything I have ever tasted... when I first drank your blood I was lost, I just didn’t realize it at the time. So much more addictive than any drug or drink..._

 

 

The echoing pain of the cut is so sharp, so sweet...

I never engaged in anything like this before you - but from our first night, there was no going back. The thought of a mundane encounter with anyone else left me with the impression of cardboard cut-outs rubbing against each other. Only _you_ were vibrant and alive. Only moments with you made my heart beat, meant _anything_ to me.

Now to be under your blade on your sacrificial altar, spilling forth life for you...

in this room of candlelight and darkness and crackling fire...

everything outside of the room has disappeared, everything that came before this moment has vanished utterly. There is only you - leaning down to delicately lick the blood you have released. And then fastening your lips to my wound and drinking deep of me.

My mouth falls open slightly. My head moves back further. My breath escapes me, mixed with a soft moan.

 

 

_Ah... the first moan. The perfect aural accompaniment to this delicious sanguine vintage._

_I’m lost in a world of our own. The storm still rages outside but it seems miles away - we are far underground, just the two of us, forever... in a realm of darkness, blood, and fire... and lust and pain._

_“My beloved Consort... no longer a test; this is our night of passion...”_

_I cut the other side. I’m always a sucker for symmetry... kiss it, letting your blood wet my lips, pull back slightly, smile at you, blood dripping from my lips, my eyes gleaming._

 

 

I gaze at you, your lips crimson with my blood. I'm panting. My eyes are half-closed.

I'm sure I'm looking high as fuck, because _I am_. If I wasn't shackled to the post, I would be finding it difficult to stand upright. As it is, I just want to slide bonelessly down to the floor and be devoured by you.

Suck me dry - I want you to.

"My Lord..." I whisper. "My everything..."

 

 

_I kiss you, let you taste your own blood - do you think it’s as irresistible as I do?_

_A few more nicks in your chest... I love the sight of blood trickling down your perfect chest and abs, irregular red trails. I lick the path of one up from your belly, gently nibbling the cut to make the blood flow faster._

_“My Consort... my love...”_

_I kiss my way down, down to your belly, lick up the blood from the little wounds, then make a few small cuts along your arms._

 

 

Every cut feels like a sharp kiss from you, a mark of possession and love.

I thought nothing could compare to our first night together when I bled so much for you...

I was wrong.

Feeling your teeth nibbling... lips sucking... tongue licking my wounds...

I'm immersed in euphoria...

"I love you..." I hear a voice raw with emotion, and realize it's my own.

"I'm utterly yours, my Lord - to do with as you please..."

 

 

_We're both lost in our dark dungeon, this dark reflection of our first night together - where that was cold and experimental, this is warm and comfortable... so many nights spent together in between, so much blood, so much pain, so much passion..._

_We are the darkness, my love; you and I are the scourge of established society, knocking them out of their self-indulgent complacency, reminding them of the danger that is lurking just out of vision. We are the grit in the clockwork, the virus in the program, the stone in the shoe of all those people who risk brain death from tedious laxity. And it's good to act that out occasionally... go full Gothic villain with darkness, blood, and fire... it appeals to the drama queen inside me, the one who always wants to make an *impression* wherever he goes._

_And it's just you and me here, but you're the most important person to impress... as well as me, and I am a sucker for a good Gothic fantasy._

_You're sunk deep into pain, lust, submission, passion... my beautiful beautiful love... you look about as far from an anaemic Gothic heroine as possible, but you suffer *so beautifully*..._

_"You are mine... you always have been, and you become more so every night we are together... with every kiss, every word spoken, every drop of blood consumed you come deeper in my thrall - and I in yours."_

 

 

"Yes..." I whisper, drunk with sensation and love.

"I am in your thrall, my beautiful dark Lord...

I am powerless...

helpless...

at your mercy...

there is nowhere else I would choose to be..."

I blink. Did you say you were in _my_ thrall?

I'm in a daze, and trying to think is like swimming through treacle... but I think that's what you said.

I look at you, drink you in with my gaze.

Oh Jim, my beautiful love... I adore you.

 

 

_I can see your thought processes as clearly as if you were narrating them... oh my lovely Tiger..._

_"I did tell you that the man in chains has the power... you didn't believe it then, as you don't believe it now... but I am nothing without you. The Lord, now he has his Consort, can't go on without him. We truly are symbiotic..."_

_I kiss you; my magnificent love..._

_Who but you could stand here, chained, naked, bleeding, and look so blissful, adoring, loving? You are unique... I am so incredibly lucky that I found you – if I hadn’t, my life would have been - boring, empty, cold –_

_short -_

_I might well have pulled the trigger on a real gun after I'd beaten Sherlock..._

_what else would there have been but more of the same? More of the tedium that nearly suffocated my mind, before two blue eyes pierced through the omnipresent greyness..._

_God, Tiger, I should be on my knees worshipping you..._

_And I do sink to my knees, kiss your legs, turn my attention to your cock, standing alert but unmoving, like a sentry who knows it's going to be a long watch. I kiss your thighs, lick your balls, your shaft, place my lips around your head, lick gently around it, eliciting beautiful little sounds from you._

_I place the knife against the thin skin at the inside of your thighs. As I plunge your cock deep into my throat, I slash your skin._

 

 

When you fall to your knees, I'm in shock. Jesus Christ, what is happening?

You're kissing my calves, my thighs... then you take my cock in your mouth, and I'm gasping and moaning in delirium.

I'm dimly aware of the blade at my thigh - but my eyes still fly open when I feel you cut my flesh, and I cry out in pain and ecstasy.

 

 

_The first cry... that beautiful first cry. I slide my mouth up your cock, tease around the head a bit, then move down again, cutting a bit lower than before._

 

 

I cry out again as your knife slashes my skin and you tease my cock. I can't contain my responses; I don't think I could if my life depended on it...

"Oh god..." I pant. "Oh my Lord..."

 

 

_I lick the blood trickling down, lick around your balls, move my mouth around your cock again, teasing, getting down, pulling up... getting you close, then cutting again and again as I take you as deep as I can, then stopping before I risk getting you over the edge._

 

 

Oh god, are you going to let me –

No. You're going to cut me.

When you stop me from coming, I feel myself sliding down the post and being held in place by the shackles.

"Oh fuck... oh god..." I whimper.

 

 

_"Yes... I'm your god, my love. You're the blood sacrifice... And it pleases me *very* much..."_

_I walk to the fire, hold the knife in the flame, watching the blade reflect the flames for a second before it turns black. I hold it until it starts to look red, then take it back to where you are looking at me, the fire reflecting in your eyes. You don't look afraid - never afraid... just - looking to see what I will do._

_I put the hot knife against one of the bleeding cuts on your chest, making it sizzle satisfyingly._

 

 

Well, if I was making noise before, I'm sure as hell not going to stop myself now.

I let out a strangled scream, and have the absurd thought that it sounded quite manly for a scream and I hope you think so, too.

I almost laugh at that, despite the blinding pain and the smell of my sizzling flesh.

"Oh god," I gasp. "Yes - you _are_..."

My head drops and I breathe through the pain.

"Whatever pleases you, my Lord -" I whisper.

 

 

_Oh Sebastian - I just want to cuddle you and kiss you all over and fold you up real small and put you in my pocket so you'll always be safe - and I want to keep hurting you all night, just to hear those sweet screams, gasps, cries, words..._

_I put another knife in the fire, so it can heat up whilst I keep this one. I *love* the smell of your burning flesh... it's not something I can indulge in too often for obvious reasons, but when we do, it's so special... and tonight is a night of blood and fire._

_I lick the burn, still hot, then make my way down to your cock again and start licking, kissing, teasing..._

 

 

I wince when you lick the burn, but then you're moving back down to my cock again and _oh_ the throbbing pain of the burn fades into the background. All I can focus on is your _mouth_ on me, _fuck_ that feels so good...

I know playtime isn't over yet, but I melt into the pleasure just for a moment, just until it gets taken away again...

Oh god, it feels _so good_...

 

 

_You're very hard and your balls are contracting, so it's time to move away again... a slit on the side of your calf, and one on the other side..._

 

 

I groan in frustration as you move away.

More sharp kisses of your knife on my legs... my skin was already sore from my punishment earlier and now there's intense bursts of stinging pain appearing randomly... but always with symmetry.

"Fuck.." I breathe. "Oh my Lord, I love you... I love your pain..."

 

 

_“And I love yours... as I love you... you are my magnificent love, my Consort, co-ruler of my realm... second in power only to me...”_

_I lick some more blood, suck some to the surface, so it’ll make a nice hiss when I hold the heated knife to it..._

 

 

The burning knife presses to my flesh again, and tears out another manly scream from me...

Once again, my head hangs down as I breathe through the searing pain.

I'm limp against the post, being held up by the shackles.

I force myself to straighten up and panting, I lift my head to look at you.

"You're so - fucking beautiful..." I whisper.

 

 

_"As are you, my love, my life..." I breathe before I kiss you hungrily._

_Only you, only you of all people, could feel this pain and comment on the beauty - of me, of the pain, of the whole situation. And only you are worthy of being here with me in my realm - so much more than worthy..._

_you are what gives warmth to the fire, what gives beauty to the night, what gives taste to the blood, pleasure to the lust... put *anyone* else in your place and I'd just be going through motions, leading to orgasm, sure, but it would just be a mechanical thing - a physical response to a stimulation, with no more to it than that..._

_Whereas with you, it's an almost mystical experience... we're both soaring on the storm now._

_I get a cushion before sinking to my knees again - these floor slabs are not comfortable and I'm not supposed to be the one suffering here. My knees safely cushioned, I resume my attentions to your cock, sucking, moving, getting you all worked up again..._

 

 

Here we go...

it's like being on some kind of ride in a dark amusement park. Up and down, start and stop, pleasure and pain...

And you control every little thing that happens here...

you are the ringmaster in the circus of pain and suffering.

And as much as I'm hoping to come, longing to come, will beg to come...

there's nowhere else I'd rather be than in the ring, under your whip, at your mercy.

"Oh my dark Lord..." I moan. "Everything you do feels _so good_..."

 

 

_It does, doesn't it? You're getting close to coming again, so it's time to stop. You let out a small whine as I pull off your cock..._

_I move back up, licking your chest, your neck, kissing you again... so beautiful..._

_I walk back to the fire, get the knife out, use the hot metal to recarve the J and M._

_Mine, in blood and fire..._

 

 

I suck in my breath, and make a distressed sound in my throat as you start on J.

It's not the worst thing I've felt by far - but it's so new to me to just react to how something feels instead of remaining silent and stoic until I break down.

By the time you're finishing the M, I'm breathing raggedly and making a whining sound like an animal.

I think you like it.

 

 

_You're making sounds I've never heard you make, but they are so beautiful..._

_"You're doing great, my love... so wonderful..." I kiss the newly burnt flesh, make my way down to your cock again._

_You're holding up remarkably well... you're moaning, crying out, whining, but not begging yet... But the night is still young, and I can keep this up for a *long* time..._

 

 

My head falls back against the post.

"Oh god..." I moan at the feeling of your hot mouth on me, working its magic. Commanding my cock to stay hard.

"Oh Lord," I whisper, my head bumping into the post as you increase your speed. I know I won't have long to enjoy this before you take your mouth away again. Before you hurt me again. I strain forward, breathing raggedly.

 

 

_You're getting close again, and I stop, again. What next..._

_No, no Jim..._

_Why not... I've been wanting to do this for years... you know it's been coming... what better time to do it than now?_

_True... if I'm ever going to do this, it's going to be now, in this night of blood and fire..._

_I stand up, kiss you lovingly. My Tiger..._

_I move to your left side, pull back your leg, bending it at the knee, put your ankle between my legs, stroke the sole of your foot._

 

 

Oh fuck... so close. Not that I thought you were going to let me, but –

what's that look in your eye?

Shit... what are you planning??

I straighten up unconsciously.

I know before _I know_. My body goes tense and my breathing gets shallow.

_ShitShitShitOhSHIT_

I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop for _years_...

and you know I'm not going to deny you shit on this day, and especially this _night_ when I'd let you drink the blood from my heart, sup the marrow from my bones...

I slowly, slowly, slowly release the tension in my body and force myself to breathe deeply.

 

 

_My beautiful Tiger... so brave... not a word of protest, no questions, just... giving. Giving yourself to me because I want it._

_How better to end this day of agony and love..._

_The soles of the feet are one of the most sensitive areas of the body. So many nerve endings that most people can’t even bear to have them touched._

_I cut the sole of your right foot years ago, in a mad orgy of blood and pain. It was glorious... but very hard on you._

_The left foot has been hanging between us, as it were, for many years... both of us knowing it would happen one time, knowing it would be a special time... when extreme punishment was warranted, or in a night of deep passion..._

_And unlike last time, you don’t need to be bound. You’re breathing deeply, you know what’s coming, and you’re ready for it. Ready to enter this deeper level of pain with me..._

_I bend down, kiss the sole of your foot, then pick up the knife, press the tip into the back of your heel._

_“I love you, Sebastian...” I whisper, and move the blade in and down._

 

 

I was going to try to suppress the level of noise, I really was, but this is already too painful to try.

I cry out sharply as I feel the blade slide into my flesh.

"Oh _god_ … _Jim_... "

 

 

_Yes... god Jim..._

_Nerves send urgent messages to your brain that really significant damage is being done and you must stop it *now*, and you are ignoring this strongest of impulses because I will it so._

_Blood runs down your foot, dripping onto the floor. I might want to clean that up before bed... feet always bleed so much._

_The knife makes its way down, down over the sole, making a nice straight line down the middle... you’re trembling slightly with the effort to keep still, but you are doing great._

_I’m fascinated by the blood, as always, spellbound by the pain that I’m inflicting... pain is such a magnificent concept; less permanent and more interactive than death. Such a gorgeous toy to play with... tool to exploit... sensation to explore._

_My love, my Sebastian, you are going to be rewarded for this, for giving me this..._

_I make my way down to the middle toe, where my trail of blood ends, much too soon, but probably not for you._

 

 

I'm breathing hard, shivering, whimpering.

The pain has driven everything out but pain, excruciating pain, blinding pain...

And you, coiled in the darkness like a serpent.

The pain would be unbearable if I didn't have something else to focus on - _YouYouYou_...

There is _only you, only you, only you_...

My eyes shut tightly, and tears squeeze out.

"Only you," I sob.

 

 

_I drop the knife to the floor, release your foot, move to your front, take your face in my hands, your sweet, lovely face, so beautiful with its tears..._

_I kiss the tears, taste the salt on my lips. "Sebastian... my Sebastian, my husband, my love... I love you so much... You're all there is, all that matters, all that is beauty in this miserable world... just you. The world was grey until I saw your blue eyes... and slowly you leaked colour everywhere you went, making everything come alive, like some kind of spring goddess who leaves flowers in her wake... You made even me come alive. You are a miracle, my Tiger..."_

_I kiss your mouth, slowly, with intent, feeling you, your surrender, your love, your daze..._

_I make my way down to your cock again, take it in my hand, kiss the tip._

_"Beg." I order._

 

 

I look down, still weeping softly.

“Please, my Lord-“ I whisper. “Please let me come -“

 

 

_Of course, my love... and I'll make it *good*..._

_I pull out all my extensive knowledge on my specialist subject of Sebastian Moran/Moriarty's cock, object of intense study for years. My right hand stimulates your testicles, while my left one scratches the cuts I made on the inside of your thighs._

 

 

I watch you. My breath is ragged, uneven. I wince at your nails scratching the cuts.

I don’t know if I can relax into this, given everything that’s happened, everything you’re capable of doing...

but your mouth is on me now, and _god_ , the things you’re doing to me...

it’s impossible not to ride the waves of pleasure rising and falling...

“Oh,” I whisper. “My Lord...”

 

 

_Yes, my love... You have more than earned this... I'm going to make this one spectacular orgasm, and then... take such sweet care of you... my darling, my Sebastian, my *everything*..._

_With a shock I recall my own cock. It's just sort of... standing there, at attention, not seeking to draw attention to itself, like a good bodyguard. I am aroused, but it's gone so much deeper than that. I want to take care of *you*, that's all that matters. However... it does turn you on to see me turned on..._

_I move my left hand to my cock, start rubbing it. Oh god that does feel good..._

 

 

I feel motion and look down to see you stroking yourself while you suck me.

Oh god, I’m really at my limit - I can’t last long after all the pain and deprivation and now this visual. Jesus Christ...

“Oh god, Sir...“ I whisper in a daze. “I’m so close...”

 

 

_I can’t reply to that, because I don’t want to break my rhythm, so I’ll just assume that me continuing to suck you like my life depends on it is seen as permission._

_Come for me, my Tiger... pour everything that we’ve been building up tonight into my mouth... I want it, it’s my last demand from you for tonight..._

 

 

I finally relax, and the trembling of my muscles intensifies.

Pleasure surges through me and I can finally get swept up in its wake.

“Oh god,” I whimper, and my tears start up again.

Violent shivers tear through me, a feral cry is ripped from me, and then the most intense wave of ecstasy pours through me.

“OhGodOhGodOhJim...” I rant through delirium, through gasping, through sobs...

I’m writhing against your mouth, I’m roaring, I’m coming mightily into your demanding mouth.

My head falls back and I’m gasping for breath and sliding down the post, once again held upright only by shackles.

 

 

_It appears my mission has been successful - you’re shouting, sobbing, gasping, shuddering as your seed spurts into me. I want this to be as good as possible, so I’m not letting myself go yet, focussing on you, sucking and licking your shrinking head until you’re begging me to stop, it’s too much..._

_and only then do I increase the speed and pressure on my own cock and come, so intensely, crying out, throwing my head back, squeezing my eyes shut, the feeling almost too intense as I pour myself out, on my knees in front of you, my fingers digging into your calf as spasm after spasm jolts my body, until I am leaning against you, panting; with you hanging in the chains, almost insensible..._

_It takes me a minute to get myself together, but I must free you, my poor Tiger, my love; I must care for you..._

_I put my foot on the floor, manage to pull myself upright with the help of the post. Your eyes are closed, you’re still panting softly - my heart spills over at the sight of you bleeding, crying, exhausted - my love, my life... you’re so precious, so sweet, I will take such good care of you..._

_I gently put my arm around you. “Can you stand, my love? Careful, on this foot... Pull yourself up, lean against the post... that’s it...”_

_When you’re upright enough, I unlock the shackles, help you to the sofa, gently put you down._

 

 

I watch in a daze through teary, half-closed eyes as you bring yourself to orgasm before me. The feeling of your hand grasping my calf, your body leaning against mine, makes me realize how I long to be lying in your arms.

I’m so tired, my love...

I close my eyes and wait for you. Then you’re supporting me, talking to me - I barely comprehend what you’re saying, but I try to focus. I feel myself being unshackled and led to the sofa to lay down.

Intense emotion crashes through me like waves against the shore - fresh tears stream down my face and I start to sob.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> You're My Best Friend - Queen  
> Howl - Florence and the Machine  
> Wolf Song - Omnia  
> Love like Blood - Killing Joke  
> Framed in Blood - The 69 Eyes  
> H. - Tool  
> Bloody Pleasures - Blutengel  
> Blood and Fire - Type O Negative  
> Spirit in Black - Slayer  
> Sleeping (in the Fire) - W.A.S.P.


	10. The Power of Love

_I hold your head in my lap as you cry, murmur sweet words. I know Seb... it's been incredibly intense..._

_I feel tears rolling down my own cheeks, but that's fine, it's just an aftereffect. As are yours. And I'll hold you through this, my love._

_I stroke your hair, wipe your nose with a tissue, keep mumbling sweet nothings in a soft voice, until your sobs quiet a little. I wipe your tears with a fresh tissue, help you to drink some water._

_"You were amazing, my love... absolutely amazing."_

_I stroke your cheek, look at you, trying to pour out all the love I feel through my eyes. The words were never invented to express all this._

_"Can you sit upright, drink some more water? Is there anything else you want? Something to eat?"_

_You shake your head. "A cigarette..."_

_I grin at that, reach for your packet on the table, light one and pass it to you._

 

 

I breathe in the sweet smoke, exhale.

Pass it to you, watch while you take a drag.

You give it back to me and I inhale long and slow.

“That was...” My voice trembles. I shake my head, speechless.

I wipe at my eyes. Then I lean against you, bury my face in your neck and sigh.

 

 

_We both need contact. A *lot* of contact._

_I need to clean your wounds, but - it can wait a few minutes. You need to be held and I need to hold you. My love. My soldier._

_"You were magnificent, my love. So incredibly magnificent. You are absolutely incredible. You *are* my sun and my stars and everything in between. In fact, the sun and stars can fuck off as far as I'm concerned, as long as I have you here in my underground realm..."_

_I take another drag, pass it to you, you turn your head to pull on the cigarette, lean your face back into me as you breathe out._

 

 

“Will you want to go to bed soon?” I mumble as my arms curl around you. “Or watch Game of Thrones? I know, it’s still D-day. What does my Lord desire to do?”

 

 

_"Honey. My darling... I want to take care of you... you have wounds; they need cleaning, bandaging. If you're alright sitting here for a bit, I'll get the first-aid kit."_

_You nod and I go to get it from the bathroom, pick up two beers on my way back, open them both. You nod at me gratefully, take a deep draught, as I lay out the wound cleaner, plasters, bandages._

_"Let's start with your foot... we have to make sure you don't get anything in there."_

_I clean the wound, bandage carefully, making sure that no dirt can get under the bandage as you walk, pull a clean sock over it to be extra sure._

_Then I get to work on all your other wounds - bloody hell, I went to town on you... oh well, if you can't tie your husband to a post and work him over with a knife on your honeymoon..._

_I take my time, very carefully cleaning and bandaging all wounds, putting gel on the burns. The wound on your neck is actually looking very good - I think that one is ready to go without a bandage by now, so I leave it open to the air._

_When I'm satisfied that I've treated your body as best as I could, I take my own beer and have a large sip, then look at you._

_"How are you feeling, love of my life?"_

 

 

“Like... I’ve experienced a night of mad passion with a cruel, loving Lord of a dark underworld realm...” I murmur, “...who enjoys making his Consort bleed and scream and cry and come like a freight train... I feel fucking sore and fucking drained and so fucking drunk with love, I think I may have gone mad...”

 

 

_"I feel much the same... apart from the sore, of course," I grin._

_"God, Sebastian... every day I think that surely *now* I've reached the apex of love, that there is no way I could *possibly* love you more or my heart would burst... and every day you push me just that little bit further, show me that my heart can grow just that little bit larger... You were *breathtaking*. Can you *imagine* how you looked, bleeding, tears streaming, shackled to a post, in the light of the candles and the fire... it was - absolutely incredible. You are incredible. I don't know *which* deity I pleased to deserve you, but if they would be so kind as to send me an email, I'll make sure they get the most lavish temple in the world."_

_I stroke your cheek, look into your eyes, dark with the exhaustion and the low light, and you stare back at me, and for a long time we just sit there, gazing at one another, lost in rapture and love and each other._

 

 

“Well...” I say eventually. “If what you saw was even remotely like the apotheosis into an underworld _god_ that I witnessed, I’m sure it was a sight to behold. I don’t know how to return to everyday life after this, Jim...? But honeymoon life is a good transition... I could use some more of that...and a whole lot more of this...” I return my head to your shoulder, and wrap my arms around you. I close my eyes and sigh with contentment.

 

 

_I'm *so* not ready to think about everyday life. I'm barely ready to think about honeymoon life. I'm still in my underworld, Lord of my dark realm of fire and blood and pain, with my Consort by my side. I'll think about returning to Mexico tomorrow... and think about returning to *London* wayyyy after that._

_I wish I could do what you do and carry you in my arms to bed. But that would be a bit of a disaster I fear - I could - and have, in the past - drag you to safety if you're wounded, but it's not pretty or comfortable, and hardly a fitting ending to our magnificent day. And - maybe you're not ready for bed yet?_

_"What does my Consort desire, after his elevation to co-ruler of the dark realm? Anything you want, it will be yours, my love... as long as it's either in the villa or within Mr Álvarez' power to deliver... which probably does extend to just about anything."_

 

 

“We should _do_ something for him... Send him something nice, maybe. He’s so bloody helpful, and he’s not even an employee. Honestly, I just want to zone out... I would say a bath would be nice but I have a lot of bandages at the moment.” Something resembling a sheepish look flits across your face, but is quickly replaced with a pleased smile. I laugh. “I think Game of Thrones and an early night. I’m sure I’ll sleep like the dead - which is fitting for an Underworld Consort, I believe...”

 

 

_"Oh trust me; I've sent him lots of very nice pesos. He loves us. But sure, if you want to send him flowers and chocolates, I'm sure he'll appreciate that._

_One episode of Game of Thrones coming up... Season two! Let's see what they get up to..."_

_I get you another beer in the kitchen, bring some nibbles in case you want them - I'm sure they'll be appreciated, you always want food. Food, drink, and sex - if you ever refuse any of those I know you're seriously ill._

_I carry the tray to the living room, where you sit - looking so different in the light of the fire with all your bits of bandaging..._

_... is there something wrong with me, that I so enjoy cutting up the man I love? Is that - well no of course it isn't *normal*, I know I'm not *normal*, or *sane*... but - should I feel bad about it? Is it a bad thing that I should stop? You - seem to enjoy it, but then *you're* not exactly the sanest person in Mexico either. If we both enjoy it, how would it be bad? Well - what if I've damaged a nerve in your foot and cause you walking problems in later life? What, since when do we think about later life? Whatever happened to die young and leave a pretty corpse? Well that was *Before*... I don't want to die. I want to live. With you. Forever. You can't, Jim. Well no I know I can't. But as long as possible. Doesn't that mean I should keep you in good nick? Should I really be giving you beer and cigarettes? Should I insist on quinoa and kale juice? Would you strangle me? What about me? Should I start eating healthy? What are we doing? Do we need to change our life in order to live longer? Would we still enjoy it? What's the use if we wouldn't? But wouldn't we enjoy just being together? But what if we get shot? Should we retire to some health colony in Sweden? Would we not just kill everyone within a week? But then how am I going to keep you alive?_

 

 

Gingerly I try to find a comfortable position on the sofa, without touching my back to the cushions. Fuck... everything hurts. It is no easy thing being Consort to the Lord of the Underworld. But tomorrow I plan to be a lazy sod on his honeymoon - I'll put my non-injured foot down if I need to.

As a rule I love what you inflict; and today has been a masochistic, submissive adrenaline junkie's dream - but holy fuck, do I need some recovery time and serious cuddling.

I realize I've been lost in thought and I haven't heard any sounds from you for a while - weren't you on your way in from the kitchen? I turn to face you and see you standing with a tray in the living room, motionless and lost in thought.

"Jim?" I ask, my brow furrowing. "Are you OK?!"

 

 

_I vaguely register that there is something external requesting my attention. I make a move to switch it off, as I usually do, but there's something overriding the off switch, a red light warning me that the incoming information is of high importance - it's Tiger. Yes well it's usually Tiger... if I hadn't learnt to switch him off by now..._

_Wait wait wait - I was thinking about Tiger. And Tiger is hurt - I hurt him - that's how I got into this whole spiral of thought –_

_I shake my head, open my eyes, to see that you're about to get up off the sofa to find out what's wrong with me._

_"No, Tiger, stay put - I'm sorry, I was miles away- " I make my way to you with the tray, put it on the table._

_I wrap my arms around you and kiss you - even this short absence was too much..._

_We'll talk about our future plans some other time - first we need to survive our honeymoon..._

_I hand you your beer and take mine, we clink the bottles together, and settle in with me holding you close in a reversal of our usual position - I sit against the armrest and you're in between my legs, my arms wrapped around you, my nose alternating between facing the TV and sniffing your hair and nuzzling you._

 

 

We're quieter than we normally are as we watch ('normally'... as if we've watched more than one season of TV in the 5 years we've known each other!)…

I'm more aware of you than the show - your arms around me... your face in my hair... everything feels electric between us and even though I'm completely drained, I find myself wondering what it will be like the next time we have sex. This thing that happened between us - the entire day but especially the last bit - I need some time to suss it out, but something shifted again. It's like we tapped into something dark, primal and bigger than us - I have no idea if you'll agree. But everything feels surreal, and I have no idea what it will feel like in the morning.

As the show ends, it hits me that it's technically still the day of domination. I look back at you. "Jim… where am I sleeping tonight?"

 

 

_I hardly watch the show. I keep thinking back to what we’ve been doing... how beautiful, how wonderful you are... how much I love you..._

_I want to take care of you so much... I’m overwhelmed with the urge, I just want to. I’ve never been the caring type - not after Georgie - but now I’m feeling like a proper mother hen who’s restless because one of her chicks is hurt._

_Fuck it. Tiger wants a bath, Tiger gets a bath. And I’ll lovingly replace all those bandages._

_You interrupt my pondering asking where you’ll sleep. Huh. Good question. Of course you should be sleeping with me - but is that what you are after? Or have you sunk so far into your submissive feelings that you want to stay there?_

_I look at your face - no - I see the same longing for physical contact there that I feel myself._

_“You are sleeping where you belong - in my arms,” I say as I stroke your cheek. “You have earned it, my beautiful Consort...” I kiss your lips._

_“But first I will draw you a bath. You’ve had an exhausting day and you deserve some sweet care from your Lord... if only because the faster you heal, the sooner I can hurt you again...” I grin._

_I hope you’re not too tired... I really feel a strong urge to wash and bathe and soothe you. I never got this bad Before, but even then it was there - I would always always take care of your wounds after sessions like this; I would take my time, and I would do it myself. So if I felt like that when I was cold and uncaring... no wonder I’m nearly blown away by it now._

 

 

Relief floods through me when you tell me where I'll sleep. "Bath sounds amazing. And you have no idea how happy it makes me to return to bed - one night a few feet away from you and I missed you _so much_ …"

I'm suddenly overcome by my feelings, and I'm tearing up again. My hand covers my eyes, my shoulders are shaking.

"I don't know why - " I say in a wavering voice, but I can't continue.

 

 

_Oh my love, my Sebastian..._

_I scoot round, sit on your lap, wrap my arms around you, pull you as tight as I dare. You’re sobbing and each sob reverberates a crack into my heart. My love..._

_“We will never ever be apart again... I promise you... I missed you too, my love... I don’t like sleeping anywhere but in your arms... it’s not right.”_

_My eyes are leaking tears too; for the umpteenth time this honeymoon we’re clinging to each other weeping... us hard criminals... unfeeling psychopaths... god, if Sherlock could see us now..._

_Why Sherlock?! Where did *that* name come from? Fuck off, pale imitation of true genius. You’d be dead if big brother hadn’t saved you. You were the major cause of Sebbie’s worries before I died and you’re not worth my thoughts on my honeymoon._

_Only Sebastian is..._

_“My sweet love... don’t worry, I won’t ever send you away from me any more... I won’t spend a night without you if I can help it... you’re with me forever...”_

_I try humour to lift the mood a little. “Remember when we first started sleeping together? How many nights we woke up half fighting? I had a black eye for two weeks - and then that time you nearly shot me when I’d been to the loo...” I grin._

 

 

I don't know where all these tears are coming from... I would have thought we'd cried ourselves dry since you returned. Apparently a little over a week is not enough crying after a lifetime of bottled-up pain, and a year of bottomless grief and anguish. Oh - yeah - I guess I still have some shit to work through.

But right now you're in my lap, you're holding me, kissing, stroking, and you're trying to make me laugh.

And I do, albeit a bit brokenly. "I was really proud of that black eye - who gives James Moriarty a shiner and lives to see another day?" I sniffle and rest my head on your shoulder. "But waking up to being choked that one time was no picnic - did I ever apologize about the bloody nose?"

 

 

_“You probably did, but I was too busy shouting at you to hear it... but what I’m saying is... neither of us ever mentioned you sleeping in your own room. It just wasn’t an option. Not even back then. I mean - one time when you had a cold I got so pissed off with you snoring that I locked you in the *broom cupboard* - but not ever back in your room - the spare room, we called it immediately, like we *ever* had guests..._

_Just - we should never sleep apart. And we won’t. My sweet sweet love, my avenging angel...”_

_You still seem weepy so I hold you close, your head resting on my shoulder, in case you need to release more. Post-orgasmic crying seems quite cathartic to me, and you’ve gone through a lot of emotions today..._

 

 

I’m finding your shoulder very comforting... I never want to leave this spot.

“Yeah... it’s pretty funny how it was just unspoken. Like - I can’t even imagine what you would have done if I’d returned to the spare room...” I say slowly. “And we really thought we weren’t together? Me included? Yeah, I know we were mental - but, seriously?? I’d like to go back into the past and shake us both. Punch some sense into us. I’m angry at us both for being so fucking stupid and wasting so much time...” I sigh longingly which makes no sense because everything I want is right here, holding me so sweetly.

“I want to dance to the next song on my playlist,” I murmur. “I know you’re going to say I should stay off my foot. I won’t move much, I’ll just sway. Promise.” I nuzzle into your neck. “I need this. Please.”

 

 

_"Anything you want, Tiger. Anything. I'll get your phone."_

_I get up, run upstairs, return with your phone, hand it to you._

 

 

I cue up the song, hand it back to you.

You connect it to the speaker system, press play.

A dissonant note fills the room.

 

_I'll protect you from the hooded claw_

_Keep the vampires from your door_ a voice murmurs seductively.

 

You turn to look at me as The Power of Love by Frankie Goes to Hollywood sweeps hauntingly around us.

"There's only _one_ dark creature that's allowed in..." I say, standing. "Whenever he wants. He can do whatever he wants... because I'm under his thrall."

I stretch out my hand, and you walk towards me slowly.

 

_Feels like fire_

_I'm so in love with you_

_Dreams are like angels_

_They keep bad at bay, bad at bay_

 

I sweep you into my arms, and the impact feels like a tidal wave. Somehow I manage to stay standing, and my arms slide around you.

 

_Love is the light_

_Scaring darkness away, yeah_

 

My hands move up to your head, and I kiss your hair tenderly, breathe in your scent.

 

_I'm so in love with you_

_Purge the soul_

_Make love your goal_

 

Slowly we begin to sway.

 

 

The power of love

A force from above

Cleaning my soul

 

_Oh yes... it does feel like that. My soul, which I don't have, feels cleaner than it ever has... all the washing in the sea, all the talking, all the getting rid of the *crap*..._

_And most importantly, finally finding love... the power of love... if it wasn't for you, I'd be still the cold empty shell that walked around looking like a human, desperately trying to find something to distract him, disdaining anything resembling sentiment. God, how blind I was... I could have had *all this*... I had you *right there*, and refused to see you for what you were..._

 

Flame on burn desire

Love with tongues of fire

Purge the soul

Make love your goal

 

_Yeah... thanks Frankie... I will... Sorry I didn't listen before..._

_And it strikes me - this was on your playlist... Oh god Tiger... how did you *ever* listen to this?! How much torture did you put yourself through, *longing* for me, listening to these words burning into your heart?!_

_I'm picturing you in some hotel room, having your headphones in, staring at your phone, crying; and I am sobbing in your arms as we slowly move to the rhythm._

 

 

I feel you breaking down before I hear it - a trembling moving through your muscles. I pull back, hold your face in my hands.

 

“Baby?” I ask, anxious. Then I see it - guilt. I moan. You poor thing - sobbing your heart out because you finally understand? My face creases, as I try to keep myself from crying.

 

“Jim, sweetheart - it’s in the past. My dreams have come true... I could not be happier...” I whisper pleadingly.

 

_I'll protect you from the hooded claw_

_Keep the vampires from your door_

_When the chips are down I'll be around_

_With my undying, death-defying_

_Love for you_

 

I press my lips to your forehead, and close my eyes as you weep.

 

 

_My Tiger... this was supposed to be cathartic for you - and instead you are holding me, kissing me, soothing me, as I am the one crying, pleading with me not to be sad... when the reason for my sadness is your sadness..._

 

Envy will hurt itself

Let yourself be beautiful

 

_"Tiger... Sebastian... you had this on your playlist... thinking how much in love with me you were... god... I'm just picturing you listening to this, being sad for me... for me, stupid unthinking idiot... if I'd only known... but even if I had, I would have rejected it, because I was so far up my own arse... god..."_

_You're holding me, still soothing me, and it's the wrong way round, I should be soothing you... I made you sad..._

 

Sparkling love, flowers and pearls and pretty girls

Love is like an energy

Rushin' in, rushin' inside of me, yeah

 

The power of love

A force from above

Cleaning my soul

Flame on burn desire

Love with tongues of fire

Purge the soul

Make love your goal

 

_We're holding on to each other, trying to soothe and to take succour, holding each other so close..._

 

This time we go sublime

Lovers entwine, divine divine

Love is danger, love is pleasure

Love is pure, the only treasure

 

_Oh god..._

_All my life I've been listening to songs about love and thinking it was some inferior sentiment, something that motivated normal people, something I could manipulate to my profit, not something that could ever apply to someone like me... Smirking at the maudlin mawkishness those songs expressed..._

_And now here I am, listening to the words like I've never heard anything so profound before. Because now they are not empty words... they are words that my Tiger listened to, that he attached meaning to... oh my love..._

 

 

I’m kissing your face, your hair, your hands, hoping you’ll feel less sad, less guilty.

 

_I'm so in love with you_

_Purge the soul_

_Make love your goal_

 

I lift your chin with my finger. “It doesn’t matter to me what happened in the past, Jim - not anymore. I mean, yeah, there’s still shit to let go of... it takes time. But big picture, I only care about _this_ \- you and me. Yours and Mine.” I gently press my lips to yours.

 

_The power of love_

_A force from above_

_Cleaning my soul_

_The power of love_

_A force from above_

_A sky-scraping dove_

 

We’re still swaying lightly, gazing at each other with deep longing.

“ _God_... I never expected this, Jim... to be dancing with you to this song on our honeymoon? I never thought-“ I break off, tears springing to my eyes. I laugh through my tears. “Sorry. I’m so sorry... _My turn_...”

 

 

_I hold you as you sob through the last verse of the song, softly swaying to the music._

_“I never expected any of this. I never expected to *want* any of this. Surely this stuff - love - marriage?! - was for normal people, not for me... Cold intellect, crazy games, adrenaline rushes, that’s me... not warm fluffy cuddles and kisses and snuggles..._

_and now the mere thought of losing it sends me into a total panic. That’s what I was thinking about when I went offline earlier. Just - how to keep you good and healthy and if I should really be cutting you up and giving you cigarettes...”_

 

 

The song ends and you go to shut off the music. I sit back on the sofa, wiping my eyes and watching you.

"Huh. Well, I - can't _imagine_ you not wanting to go at your Tiger with a knife sometimes. And I don't _recommend_ not giving me cigarettes. Even if you ordered me to stop, it would be the biggest fucking nightmare you ever experienced. I'm not sure you or the villa would survive the experience of me being forced to quit smoking." I shudder. "But I get it. I still feel fearful about returning home... it feels so _dangerous_ , which is a really weird concept for criminal psychopaths to concern themselves with... "

I open my arms. "I think we could both benefit from some warm fluffy cuddles?"

 

 

_"Yes..." I plunk onto the sofa, wrap my arms around you. "Lots of warm fluffy Tiger cuddles..."_

_I sigh, lean my head onto your shoulder._

_"I don't know what to do - and I don't like it. I am so used to always having a *plan*, and not caring very much; and now here I find myself caring very much and *not* having a plan... it's very disconcerting._

_But - we are not going home until we feel both good and ready for it. If we want to have a one-year honeymoon, we will. If we never want to go back to London, we won't. The Empire isn't in London, it's in here," I point to my head, "and I can run it from anywhere thanks to the blessings of the internet._

_But for now... no thoughts of Empire, or London, or anything outside of this villa, where the Lord and his Consort get ready to spend their night together, after the Consort passed all the tests with flying colours..._

_Would you still like that bath? Or would you prefer to go to sleep? Or watch another episode? Or dance to another song - though I'm not sure if my heart would survive..."_

 

 

I sigh. "I'm very much looking forward to spending the night with you, but I'm not quite ready for sleep. I'm exhausted but my brain feels so awake. I don't even know what happened in the episode we just watched. And I don't think I have it in me to sob through another song. But I would still love to have a bath..."

"Bath it is," you say softly. You kiss me and go off to draw me a bath. I sit on the sofa and wait for just a moment before I realize being alone doesn't feel good... at all. Memories of being alone in the world surface in me, and an abyss opens within. I limp to the bathroom and you turn to see me enter. It's all I can do to not throw myself at you. You open your arms and I walk into your embrace. Holding onto you so tightly, we watch as the water fills the large tub, and warm, lovely steam wafts around us.

 

 

_Oh my love..._

_You look lost as you walk into the bathroom. I thought it had just been me - I was feeling uncomfortable without you, told myself not to be silly, the bath needed supervision - but you cannot bear not being with me either._

_The bath fills slower than the London one, so we stand there for a long time, just holding each other, enjoying the physical proximity. We have so many years of it to catch up on..._

_When the bath is getting to a reasonable level, I help you into it. You hiss a bit as your wounds touch the water, but soon relax, as I scout through the cabinet and find bath oil and candles - perfect. I pour the oil, which smells of bergamot and linden, and light some candles that I arrange around the bath, then switch off the light._

_So much better... the steam and candlelight make the room an even more soothing environment. It’s easy to believe there is nothing outside this dark bubble, which is exactly what we both need at this point._

_I slide into the bath with you, again behind you, since your back is less damaged than your front._

_And then it strikes me that I hurt my love, that you are experiencing pain because of me, and I start crying again._

_Good grief. I’m glad we’re not in the real world. All this weeping would never do. But in this liminal space it’s alright. Tears can flow until we have established who we are. Because I am definitely someone else than I was two weeks ago…_

 

 

You’ve created such a beautiful environment with the oils and the candles... it feels like we’re still in the realm of the dark lord, and I’m so relieved. I wasn’t nearly ready to leave it, not fully. I feel like we could come back to this place again and again, if we want... and it’s so dark and beautiful and addictive, I imagine we will...

It’s novel to have you behind me, holding me - I like it. You feel so protective, so strong... but apparently you’re feeling otherwise, because it’s not long before I hear you cry. I press against you, turn my head to look at you. I take your face in my hand.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” I say in a low voice. “More of the same, or something else?”

 

 

_You're so sweet... Concern for me showing on your face - how could you be concerned for me?_

_"More of the same..." I say through my tears. "I was just - overcome with guilt because I hurt you. But even I know that's ridiculous. I think it's just the whole day we've had - it's been so intense, physically, sexually, emotionally - it's probably just the backlash of all that. I'm not used to emotions in the first place, and today –_

_god, I love you so fucking much, and it seemed to just get stronger every hour of the day - everything we did - god Sebastian have you any *clue*? Do you know how magnificent you are? I mean, if I would have been given a kit by god, with him saying 'here you go, build your perfect human to be your partner', I would not have been able to come up with someone as sublime as you."_

_I hold you close, bury my face in your hair, breathe deeply... your familiar scent is soothing..._

 

 

I stroke your face. “I totally understand, Jim - it _has_ been intense. Really fucking intense. Does it feel to you like somehow we travelled a far distance in a short time, and now we’re in a new location and none of our maps apply? It really did feel like time moved differently... all told, how long did it take from the time the story started - an hour?? It did _not_ feel like an hour... so we’re bound to feel disoriented, and overwhelmed. I sure do... I don’t think I’ll ever feel like I did before. Something changed. You’re so far under my skin, it hurts to be one goddamn room away, Jim...” my voice cracks. “One goddamn room. I only had to wait 10 minutes... and I couldn’t do it.” I lean my head back on your shoulder, and you bend down to kiss me. “Mmm... Kitten. I just need more Kitten all the fucking time...” I whisper, and you kiss me again.

I sink down in the tub, so my head can rest on your shoulder. I move my uninjured foot to the edge of the tub. It feels incredibly decadent to lie against you in this huge tub, so much bigger than the one we had in London.

“I would have liked the idea of a ‘build your perfect partner’ kit...” I say quietly. “But yeah... nothing I could come up with would even have come close. I wouldn’t have thought to include an unholy obsession with trashy pop songs in the design, for instance - but here we are...”

 

 

_I huff. "I do not have an unholy obsession with trashy pop songs. I have a healthy appreciation for contemporary music, unlike *some* people, who like to listen to men screaming their lungs out trying to be heard over screeching guitars..."_

_"But, yes... I thought it was me, getting lost in the story... you know how I like to immerse myself. But then, the knife... your blood... I've done that so many times before, but this time it was... otherworldly? Maybe the best way to describe it. I really felt like I was taking you inside me when I drank your blood... and my heart poured itself into you when you cried out in pain... I think maybe we got merged together, and it hurts when we're apart because our soul is literally torn in two... "_

_I stroke your arm, move my hand to your chest, start removing the bandages, easily done now they're wet._

 

 

“It _was_ otherworldly... even though I was telling the story, I didn’t feel like I was making it up. It’s more like - it was telling itself through me.” I shiver as you stroke me and remove my bandages. “And something _happened_ during the telling... and it was amazing and scary and... yeah. It did feel like we merged...” I finish in a whisper, and close my eyes as I feel your hands on me.

 

 

_I’m not a superstitious man. But I do believe in the power of stories. And that story... was a particularly strong one._

_We’ll have to see how things play out in the coming days. I don’t think we’ll spend any time away from each other... which will make having a shit interesting, I grin._

_You’re leaning back against me, and I hold you, peeling off the bandages I can reach but leaving the rest for now, finally just sitting together, watching the steam curl in the candlelight, feeling the reassuring beat of your heart._

_Water again..._

 

 

I sigh in contentment. We’ve been silent the last few moments, you continuing to stroke me, me occasionally leaning back to silently demand a kiss from you.

A kiss is always bequeathed by my lord - sweetly, tenderly, deeply.

There are stirrings underneath... longings... sighs...

I don’t think either of us will have the energy for more tonight, but tomorrow - I’m feeling very curious about how this experience will influence our sex life. And me being me, I don’t think it will take long to find out.

I take your hand from my chest and press my lips to your palm. Then I interlace my fingers with yours, and demand another kiss.

 

 

_We sit like this for a long time, stroking, kissing, holding each other._

_I stare at the candle flames, so different in here than downstairs - where there they heightened the idea of a subterranean torture dungeon, here they give off the feel of a healing pool in an enchanted forest or an ancient temple or something. It’s all getting very fantasy - maybe we’ve been watching too much Game of Thrones._

_When the water is getting cold I make my way to your front and divest you of the remaining bandages, then put a towel on the floor for you to step on and dry you off slowly and lovingly. I kneel on the towel as you sit on the edge of the bath and carefully bandage your foot again._

_All this is done without us exchanging a word... we seem to both be loath to break the solemnity of the mood by words._

_When your foot is done, we go to the bedroom, where you lean against the pillow and I treat and bandage your other wounds._

_When they’re all treated, we kiss long and deeply. I switch off the light._

_We fall into an impossible tangle of limbs, both adamant to have as much of our bodies touch as possible._

_I lie awake for a while as I listen to your breath, getting slower and regular, and wonder what the morning will bring. It doesn’t seem possible that there will be one - it’s more likely we will wake up in perpetual darkness, our black realm to rule..._


	11. Sebastian Moriarty Is Getting Fucking Close to Falling over the Edge

I awake with a start, not knowing where I am - I blink in the darkness with confusion. Then I feel your arms around me, and I nestle against you - you’re the big spoon, which isn’t our usual configuration. But I like it.

I reach out to look at my phone - 4:30AM. There is no sunshine peeking through the blinds yet - nor do I want there to be. I just want to keep the darkness from last night going forever... maybe we’re meant to be vampires. I chuckle at the thought, and you murmur into my hair. Oh my god... could you be any more adorable? Could I _possibly_ adore you more?

I smile. I don’t want the light to come but the one good thing about it is that you’ll be awake. I can’t wait to see your face and cover you with kisses... and well, more. A lot more. I feel myself harden at the thought. Fuck. Down, boy... It’ll be a couple of hours at least until we can jump our beloved.

I close my eyes, listen to you murmur in your sleep, and eventually feel myself drifting away.

 

 

_There are meteor showers in our underground realm and we sit on top of a tower to watch them. You ask me why there are meteor showers underground, and I explain that they are bits of the top of the cave breaking off and catching fire._

_You say you miss the stars from your old home, so I get us a spaceship with a polar bear pilot, because polar bears are able to withstand the cold of space. I show you the Milky Way, the Cat’s Eye Nebula, Eagle Nebula with the Pillars of Creation..._

_The stars reflect in your eyes, and I spend a long time staring into them as we take the lift down._

_Back down you stalk a lizard and show me the diamonds it has in its lair, and laugh and call me a magpie when my eyes light up. We go to the bazaar and I use one of the diamonds to buy an ebony bowl with phoenix feathers. They burn with beautiful colours._

 

 

I awake with a start - again. I look and see slivers of sunlight around the edges of the drapes. I’m in the same position as before - your arms are wrapped snugly around my chest, avoiding the burn. I don’t want to move, I don’t want to inadvertently wake you, but I have to see your face. I _have_ to...

I turn as gracefully as possible, without dislodging your arms. I wrap my arms around your waist, and I gaze at your face, and it’s all I can do to not break down. I take in your dark lashes... your mouth, pouting slightly... your remarkably young face. You’re only 36 (turning 37 soon!) but you look years younger when you sleep.

I stare at you, barely breathing... this is my love, this is my life...

 

 

_You stir in my arms and I can tell from your breath that you're awake. Am I awake? I guess I could be, if sufficiently enticed. I guess the prospect of seeing you counts._

_I open my eyes, see yours close to me, staring at me. Your amazing smile breaks through when you see my eyes open and I feel my mouth stretch in response._

_"Good morning, love of my life..."_

 

 

“Good morning, beloved...” I murmur. I lean in and kiss you sweetly.

Not enough... not nearly enough.

I pull you towards me and kiss you deeply.

“It’s a new day. What does my Lord desire?” I whisper.

 

 

_Oh..._

_Oh my love... you're still in that zone, are you?_

_Let's see where we can go..._

_"And the Consort wakes up the next day, to see the daylight shining in through the curtains of the Lord's room. And he cries out in dismay: 'My Lord! What happened to your dark realm?' He goes to the window, pulls back the curtain, to see the trees and hills of his own world. He looks back at the bed, where his Lord lies, relieved to see that he is still there, and still seems the same, even in the cold light of day, with one exception - where his wolf eyes had been, now are dark brown human eyes._

_And the Lord smiles at his Consort, sits up, and gestures at him to come back into bed. When the Consort does so, the Lord turns to him, and explains, 'The dark realm is not separate from the real world... It's all around us, it's inside each and every one of us. And it's easy for you to go there... just look...' And the Lord lifts up his Consort's face, looks him in the eyes, and the Consort looks into the human brown eyes, and as he is looking, they change... not into wolf eyes, but into dark pools, and he finds himself drawn into them, and can see the dark realm there..._

_And the Lord's eyes change into the familiar wolf eyes, and he lays his hand upon the Consort's heart, and the Consort looks inside his heart and sees that the dark realm is there as well..._

_He looks up again at his Lord, whose eyes are brown again, and his Lord smiles, and says 'We are the darkness, my love, and wherever you and I are together, the dark realm will be..._

_Now you are the new co-ruler of the realm, and it is the first morning of our life as rulers of the world. I think it fitting that my Consort tell me his desires, his dreams for his new life... so I can shape our destiny based on both our wants.’”_

 

 

I listen to you speak with rapt attention. Oh my sweet, dark Lord...

By the time you finish, I'm blinking back tears and beaming at you.

"Wherever you and I are together, the dark realm will be..." I whisper. "Have I ever told you how magnificent you are?"

"An oversight, I'm sure..." you say, arching an eyebrow.

"Well then... shall I spend the rest of my life telling you?" I murmur, and kiss you.

You smile at me and I gaze at you, in awe at how beautiful you are.

"As for dreams of my new life, I can't think of anything at the moment beyond being with you. The rest is just details - but I do love the thought of travelling with you. Since we can carry the dark realm with us..." I kiss you again, and caress your hair.

"And as for desires... I desire a lazy honeymoon day with the dark lord of my dreams, and my one true love. I want to fuck and suck and snog and make love and be snuggle-bunnies and juuust fuck ourselves raw until the sun goes down..." I look at you innocently. "I await my Lord's pleasure."

 

 

_"Sounds absolutely perfect to me," I agree. "I'm tempted to declare another Day of Domination after how wonderfully relatively quiet yesterday was, but I fear I might use you up if I keep playing rough with you... and I do like to have my husband here as well as my slave._

_But I think that things may be just naturally quieting down. We are both getting used to the idea that we are together, that neither of us is going to disappear, that we don't have to rush through everything. And also the high temperaments of getting back together, discovering I was not dead, suddenly having feelings have abated somewhat. And we *will* talk about the whole being dead thing - don't worry that I'm trying to get out of that. But today, who knows, we might have that mythical quiet day..." I grin._

_"After I've fucked you raw, of course. Now, the big question... before or after coffee? Coffee would involve getting up... making it... too much abstention._

_On your knees, grab the headboard. Your Lord's pleasure is going to be fucking that magnificent arse."_

 

 

A stream of feelings and sensations moves through me. Intrigue and desire over another Day of Domination (but also soreness and fatigue - yes, maybe too soon)... a wave of love for you wanting your husband... relief at the thought of things quieting down for us, but also fear as I have no idea what that will be like... and then you mention the ‘being dead thing’ - Oh. You’re _not_ avoiding it... You will talk about it with me... Jim... dread and sorrow and affection wells up in me.

And then lust quickly overtakes all other feelings and shoves them off a cliff. Go fuck yourselves, feelings. I’ve got more important things to do...

I aim a steamy look in your direction, smirk and follow fucking orders.

“I do love your pleasure, My Lord...” I breathe, and tighten my grip on the headboard.

 

 

_Ohhhh, my Tiger..._

_We don't need a Day of Domination to have you obey me instantly. Mind you, you do love being fucked... But that speech you held the other day, about how nothing excites you more than whatever I want... that's true. I don't think you're naturally submissive - or rather, you are, but you are incredibly demanding in who you are dominated by. I don't like digging into your sexual past - it makes me murderous and killing half the Commonwealth is a bit much even for me - but I don't think you experimented a lot with being dominated. You were such a rebel, always fighting to be on top, and it took me to recognize that you were really crying out for someone strong enough to overpower you._

_There's nothing hotter than a Tiger submissively kneeling and bending over, awaiting my pleasure... and you won't have to wait long, my love. I woke up in a good mood, as have you, by the look of things..._

_I quickly prepare you and then I'm on top of you, pressing inside you, always such an acute pleasure - it makes me groan and shiver._

_"One of the main duties of the Consort is to be fucked deep, hard, and often by his Lord - does that sound like an obligation you would enjoy, my dear?" I pant into your ear._

 

 

“ _Obligation_... yes, I will strive to live up to the position,” I moan, as you move deeper. “And I will rise to the occasion, my Lord...”

I hear you chuckle behind me, and I grin.

“My purpose in this life is to serve you... to service you... to please you...” my voice grows rough as your movements do. “And it is my greatest honour to love you and be loved by you... to fuck you and be fucked -“ I break off, groaning.

“Oh - god...” I gasp, and find myself gripping the headboard with an iron grip and pushing back against you. “Oh - fuck -“

 

 

_Keep talking, Tiger, it's so fucking hot..._

_"I see you're rising to the challenge already..." I purr as I stroke my finger along your erection. "Let's make it a bit harder, shall we? Pun very much intended..."_

_I take your cock, start stroking it. "I come first... remember that..."_

_My left hand moves on your cock as my right leans on your hip, and I start fucking you in earnest._

 

 

“Always, my Lord...I could never - forget -“ I moan as I feel your hand against my cock...

I’m very aware of the rule, but it never gets easier. Especially when I’m so turned on before we even start, and you’re fucking me like a dark god... I feel it now more than ever.

“Oh, beautiful dark one...” I pant. “My beloved Lord... my sword is yours... my life is yours... my arse, my cock, all of me - _yoursyoursyours_ -” I gasp as you fuck me faster, harder, oh fuck, _Jim_...

 

 

_Yes, my darling... my love, my slave, my husband, my Consort..._

_Consort... from Latin ‘con’, together, and ‘sors’, destiny... he whose destiny is forever together with mine... really, a better term than husband. You missed a trick there, English language._

_Meanwhile, the coitus (again from Latin ‘co’ together and ‘ire’, going, so going together_ yes brain can we stop the language trivia now?! I’m trying to have sex here _) is progressing nicely - your little groans and pants so stimulating, your back still so beautifully marked with the stripes from my whip, your arse tight and delicious as ever..._

_“Mine, my love... I know... every inch of that marvellous body... “_

_I scratch my nails down your back, making small trails of blood, lick it, shiver as it reminds me of the dark delights of last night._

 

 

You seem lost in the fuck... which is so amazing, but when I’m so turned on and I have no idea how long I’ll have to hold off for, it’s such sweet torment. You’re whispering to me... scratching me... licking my blood... fuck - you can do this, Seb...

It’s just - you already turned me on so much, and now I’ve got this dark underworld scenario which ceased to be mere fantasy before the story even ended, and now seems to be underpinning everything... like from this point on, you could slide ‘reality’ aside like a thick crimson curtain, and always, always find the dark realm underneath. Underneath, you are the dark Lord with wolf eyes, underneath I am the bad man-turned-Consort, co-ruler of Your realm...

I don’t know how this happened, but it’s done. Finis. Good riddance to so-called reality - this is my only reality now. I’m being fucked hard in the arse by my beloved husband who is also a criminal mastermind, sadistic psychopath, adorable little shit, and ruler and god of his dark realm. Ruler of me, god of me... Sebastian Moriarty is his loyal, devoted subject, the object of his desire, his protector, his dark knight...

Sebastian Moriarty is his adoring Consort whose cock is being stroked so deliciously by his dark Lord’s hand, and is getting so fucking close to falling over the edge...

Sebastian Moriarty is getting very carried away and needs to fucking get it together because coming first would be very very bad and _will not do_...

I whimper. “Oh god... Jim...”

 

 

_You’re groaning more and more desperately, which is a delight for the ears... I’d love to torture you further, but I am getting really really close myself, and I see no reason to deny myself this delicious orgasm..._

_“My Tiger... my love... I’m coming... come with me, my love... let me feel you shudder...”_

_That was an easy order to follow, apparently, as I’ve hardly spoken it and you’re groaning and panting and your muscles contract around my cock so *deliciously*, pulling my climax out of me as we transform into one being, one pure entity of ecstasy, I feel your pleasure as acutely as mine, as we arch our back, as our throat utters groans, as our body spasms with delight, as our seed spills over our hand, as the golden glow of orgasm fills us up to bursting; there is only us in the world, we are all that exists, we are transcendent, eternal..._

_The gusts of pleasure last a long time. A thousand years, or maybe a minute._

_Consciousness annoyingly worms its way back into my head; prying its cold light where it’s not wanted, forcing me to feel my cock shrinking, my arms trembling, your body moving - apart from mine - which is unbearable... I don’t want to leave your body; I don’t want to be separate..._

 

 

I lower myself against the bed, gasping for air. You’re still partly leaning on me, and you don’t seem to want to let go - your arms curl around my chest and pull me towards you, still cautious not to press against my bandages. I turn myself around, and I’m in awe when I see you - you’re so fucking beautiful, I ache to look at you... I kiss you softly and gaze at you.

But - is that sadness I see in your eyes? “Babe? Are you ok?” I ask, holding your face in my hands.

 

 

_You are so, so achingly beautiful... I get tears in my eyes just seeing you... and you kiss me, look at me, ask if I'm ok..._

_"I'm... I don't know... I don't know what happened yesterday, I just... when we were coming just now, I felt like I was part of you, you were part of me... and... it just hurts to not be one with you any more? It physically aches me to have to be in a separate body... I don't know what's happening Sebastian... it's like I can't get close enough to you. I love you so incredibly much, it just hurts..."_

_Tears start streaming down my face - what the fuck is wrong with me!? Am I some hormonal teenager? I'm so madly in love that it hurts even though the object of my love is *right here* in my arms?! How much closer can you get?_

_"I'm sorry, Tiger, I'm being silly..."_

 

 

I kiss away your tears, and gaze at you adoringly. “You’re not being silly... I feel the same way, baby - it hurts, I love you so much it _hurts_... and I don’t understand, because you’re right here, I have you, I have everything I’ve ever wanted... but I want more, I always want more, and what more is there?? How much farther can we go? Do we have to fucking die so we can merge in the afterlife? Well, I may have had a lifelong death wish, but I don’t want to give up a single second of my life with you...” I finish with a raised voice, then roll my eyes and laugh. “See? I’m getting all riled up and there’s nothing to get upset about... I guess we’re still feeling the effects of yesterday? It felt like... a game-changer.” We look at each other searchingly for a long moment. I smile and kiss you. “Maybe we don’t have to have it all figured out. We haven’t even had coffee yet...”

 

 

_"Yes... coffee... good idea. Things always look clearer after a cup of coffee..._

_It is intriguing though. What actually happened yesterday? Your story took us both into this... fantasy realm... and the... blood and pain afterwards, was just... god, we've done this before, and it's always been amazing, but... it just... I don't know what happened. I was so swept away by it all, by you... you were *magnificent* - like... I don't know, like Jesus on the cross or something... passion in suffering... and it was almost an epiphany for me - I adore you so much..._

_It's odd that I seem to talk about our love in terms of religion quite a lot, but it's so *intense* - more mundane terms just don't seem to be sufficient."_

_We sit, stare into each other's eyes, both reluctant to move._

_Finally I sigh. "I guess coffee won't magically appear unless we make it so..."_

_I get up, as do you, we put on shorts and t-shirts, you put on your weapons, and we walk downstairs. Hand in hand. Then you hold me as I work the coffee machine, and sit me on your lap as we drink our coffee._

_This is going to be a day of much touching..._

 

 

It's difficult to let go of you long enough to drink my coffee. I keep one hand loosely wrapped around your waist as I drink it. And as soon as I'm done, I wrap both arms around you again and bury my face in your hair.

"Uh... yeah, this is pretty intense. It feels like if I let go of you for too long, I'm afraid you'll vanish in a puff of smoke. I assume it will lessen as time goes on...? It has to, right?" I look at you helplessly. "Not that I mind having an excuse to have my paws all over you..." I give you a quick tickle, and you slap my hands away, giggling. "God, you're adorable... "I grin, and pull you towards me to kiss your forehead tenderly. "No wonder I can't stop touching you..."

 

 

_"Fuck off, Mor... iarty. I'm not adorable, I am fierce and deadly. Fear me. Rawr," I claw at you, you grasp my hand, kiss my wrist._

_"Somehow we will have to make breakfast... and I'm really sorry to say this, but I need the loo, and I draw the line at you joining me for that._

_Think you'll be able to fry up some bacon without me?"_

 

 

"Oh, I'm quite happy to not join you... And I haven't been bested by any bacon yet, so I think I'll be fine. Go on, my fierce and deadly Kitten..." I give you a kiss and a nudge, and you hiss at me as you leave the kitchen. I laugh as I pad to the refrigerator, and pull out eggs and bacon. I look at the ingredients on the counter for a moment - OK, I've done this a thousand times before. Why does it feel like it's been a century?

I shake my head and start my preparations. When you return, bacon and eggs are sizzling, and I hand you a glass of mango juice.

And then I wrap you in a long hug.

"It just feels better when you're here..." I mutter.

 

 

_I'm on the loo and I'm looking at my phone, and before I know it I've gone to the photos and am looking at pictures of you - you laughing, dancing, sleeping, giving me the V-sign, wearing your Tiger briefs for the first time - yeah Jim, you were definitely not in love. You just had a large selection of pictures of your bodyguard. Perfectly normal - doesn't everyone? I'm sure the capo has entire folders._

_I recall how I used to look at these in Italy - definitely not because I missed you, of course._

_I'm relieved when I get to rejoin you in the kitchen - breakfast smells delicious, and you hand me a glass of juice and hug me and it feels like I've been out of your arms for *ages*._

_Good lord... I thought this clinginess would diminish after some time, but it only seems to get worse._

_Well, I guess that's normal on a honeymoon? I don't know - I never really looked into the practicalities of one before. And I'm not going to google it. You and I are not like normal mortals and we shall act as we see fit. And if that means cuddling and cooing all day, then that's what shall happen._

 

 

I look at you ruefully as I let you go so you can drink your juice and sit down. Christ, I'm glad I'm not the only one feeling this way... you seem just as smitten and unsettled as me.

I finish up with breakfast, slide plates with eggs, bacon and toast onto a tray, and bring it over to where you sit at the table.

"Do you want to eat outside, babe?" I ask, and you murmur assent and stand up.

I follow you to the patio, and put the tray down. "More coffee? I'll be right back..."

When I return with mugs, you're munching a piece of bacon and staring out at the sea.

"Does everything feel weird to you, too? It's like we spent a year in the dark realm, and now I don't know how to function..." I try not to sound anxious, and sip my coffee.

 

 

_I am relieved you bring it up._

_"Yeah, it's mad - it does feel like part of me is stuck there. And I feel so in love it hurts. It's really almost uncomfortable. I look at you and just want to cry - that's not normal, surely? Is there like - a course you can take when you're in love, on how to handle it? How are people supposed to just *deal* with this? I mean, *I* can't deal with it, and I'm a genius..._

_And it's not like you have a lot of experience in this..._

_I don't know, Tiger. Maybe we should just... let the day happen and see what comes. I really am out of my depth, sorry..."_

_I put my hand on yours, and you turn yours up, curl your fingers around mine._

 

 

I squeeze your hand, and it's comforting. "Uhh… no courses I've ever heard of. But I don't think most people feel the way we do... about anything. Yeah, it's uncomfortable - but it was uncomfortable when you first returned, too. It took us days to get used to it - being with each other, being in love..." The corners of my mouth turn up. "And... we didn't exactly handle it well... but we acclimatized. I guess we'll just do the same now."

I kiss you sweetly.

"Oh - I got a text from Mr Álvarez. He mentioned something we may want to check out. The novena of Santa Muerte - it's a ceremony to some kind of death saint or death goddess who people pray to for protection of their loved ones. Apparently if you make an offering to her, she'll look out for the person you ask for... I know that's not really our thing, but - it might be good to go out, and get our minds off all the weirdness. The shrine is in the village where I got the motorcycle, and Mr Álvarez offered to drive us - or we could just take the bike. What do you think?"

 

 

_I have to admit - I had been thinking that maybe getting out of the bubble is exactly what we need to get our minds out of this weird mood. Staying here and wallowing in it is only likely to make it worse..._

_"Yes - maybe a change of scenery is exactly what we need - and I am intrigued by Santa Muerte - she's not recognized by the Catholic Church, of course, but she's insanely popular here, especially among people of... our kind... outlaws and homosexuals. She's venerated widely by the criminal classes, and she's inspired an offshoot of the Catholic Church who perform gay marriages. In fact, I've been intrigued by her ever since I first heard of her." I'm getting enthusiastic now. "I'd love to attend a ceremony to her. If I were ever to return to the Catholic Church, like my good parents would so love me to, she'd be my saint of choice."_

 

 

My eyebrows shoot up. “There’s a patron saint for outlaws and homosexuals?? How have I never heard of the lovely lady?”

You start typing on your phone. “Here’s a picture, Sebbie...”

I blink at the image of a skeleton with a veil and a headdress.

“Wow... that’s hardcore... well, now I definitely want to go. Señor Álvarez sent a list of traditional offerings, so we can pick up one or two things on the way there... do you want him to drive us, or just take the bike?”

 

 

_“Let’s take the bike - I’m not really in the mood to socialize. Though... I’m not sure if I will be able to let you get dressed in biker leathers without having you strip them off...”_

_My mind dutifully replays the scene of two nights ago. My eyes glaze over._

_“Ehnn... Yeah. Ehm. When we get home you’ll just have to do it again. And I’ll try not to jump you in the meantime. I’m not promising anything though._

_So - what does our lovely lady like? And what does this novena entail?”_

 

 

I grin at your recollection of my performance - I knew you liked it, but wow - it's rare to see you at a loss for words. And flushed. Fuck, you're cute. And _hot_.

I lean in and whisper into your ear. "I'll put on a show whenever my beautiful husband desires. Or whenever my dark Lord demands..."

Our eyes fix on each other. Oh god, I'm sure _I'm_ looking flushed now. And you look like you're rethinking the whole 'not jumping me' thing.

I clear my throat. "So, erm... the lovely lady likes..." I scan the message on my phone and continue, "fruit, flowers (especially roses), liquor (especially tequila), cigarettes and cigars, money, candles and incense. And chocolate. And nothing cheap; she likes the finer things, so she's a lady after your own heart."

I continue to read. "The Novena is a nine-day devotional to her, and this is the first day. Some people do it monthly, and some just in November. According to Señor Alvarez, this ceremony is being done by a lady who's a _bruja_ \- he kind of dances around it, but I'm guessing she's witchy and does folk magic and healing? It seems pretty simple - there's just candles and incense and prayers, and then you leave your offerings to Santa Muerte and any requests. And it won't be traditionally Catholic at all so we don't need to worry about you bursting into flames." I lean in and kiss you.

 

 

_“I only burst into flames if they throw holy water at me,” I protest. “So when is this taking place? It sounds very interesting - and going to see local customs is something people do on holiday, isn’t it?_

_I may even be persuaded to postpone jumping you until we’re back... could you put a sack over your head or something?”_

 

 

“I will _not_ be putting a sack over my head. You’ll just have to restrain yourself - isn’t that usually your line?” I grin as I scan the message. “It’s in a couple of hours. So we should leave in an hour or so, that’ll give us time to find the shrine, and buy a couple of offerings. What do you think, premium tequila? And roses are classic - I’m sure the lady will like that. And if you’re still interested in getting your own bike, you could test drive one since we’ll be in the neighbourhood...” I take your hand, and your ring clicks against mine. “Yes, seeing local customs is something people do on holiday... I’m glad we’re going.” I smile at you, and kiss your hand.

 

 

_"*Fine*," I huff. "So then let's go now, so I can buy a bike and some leather gear of my own - as my bodyguard, shouldn't you be warning me against the dangers of riding in cotton?_

_Let's take some of that tequila we bought from Mr Álvarez's relation - that's very nice stuff. And we can buy some roses in town. Blood red ones, I'd think, for a lady of her calibre..."_

 

 

“I was not about to let you ride in cotton!” I retort. “How long has it been since you rode, anyway? It’s good timing that we’re leaving offerings - I’ll ask her to keep your arse protected on the road.” I grin and wink at you. “A dozen roses, then - just to be safe.”

 

 

_"You let me ride on the back of your bike in cotton!" I protest. "Like - if we fall, you're protected, but I get roadburn all over my pristine and sensitive skin. And I can ride just *fine*, thank you - they say you never forget how to ride a bike."_

 

 

"Yeah, but _I_ was taking you for a ride, and I made sure to take a quiet road - so we _wouldn't_ have fallen. I'm very mindful of your pristine, sensitive _everything_ , darling..." I kiss your forehead. "Did I express any doubts about your ability to ride, babe? I just didn't know how rusty you may be..."

 

 

_"I'll show you how well I can ride..." I growl against your neck._

_No, Jim... if you go there you're not getting out of here, and I'm really interested in this Santa Muerte - I may be a lapsed Catholic, but something about that veil and the shape just - it's some kind of ingrained response of respect and intrigue. And then her skeletal physique - well, I like my skulls. And being the patron of outlaws and homosexuals - how could I not love her?_

_It's probably that blasted fairytale you were telling, but - there's something going on today, I'm not my normal cold rational self. (Like you have been these past days, Jim?) - Granted, but it's worse today. I feel... weird. Like the world is not quite real._

_The perfect time to go and worship an undead saint that the church has outlawed..._

 

 

As you growl against my neck, I pause for a moment feeling my body heat up.

Oh, is this going somewhere? my cock seems to inquire curiously.

Nope... But I'll make sure it does when we return home.

I growl softly in response, then pull you up from your chair. I kiss you lightly on the lips.

"Better get ready to go before we get carried away... I'll clean up."

You insist on helping me put things away, looking rather guilty when you see me limping.

I try not to roll my eyes at this. If it makes you sad to see me grievously wounded, then don't grievously wound me, my sadistic little darling... But we both know that's not going to happen, so - I'm already over it. Only you can't seem to let it go, which is new for you. Is this a spot where love and sadism do not cross paths? Or residual Catholic guilt?

Well this should be an interesting experience; attending a quasi-Catholic religious ceremony to ask protection for your love who technically seems to be most at risk from you these days... oh god, now I'm imagining these types of thoughts going round and round in your head, and that way lies actual madness. My poor sweet Jim... no wonder you need to blow off steam in fucked up ways, sometimes.

 

I pull you away from the dishwasher, and into my arms. I kiss you fiercely. "I love you, my dark prince... I'm really looking forward to this, but I already can't wait until we get back so we can get back to our previously scheduled fuckfest. This outing is just a detour... the main event happens here. " I kiss you deeply, and revel in your hungry response.

 

 

_You limping has a strange dichotomous effect - it reminds me of the deep dark passion of last night, which makes me warm and loving; and it reminds me of how insane I am for cutting open the man I love, which makes me feel guilty._

_You seem absolutely fine with it all, but... as the person in charge, don’t I have the duty to protect you against yourself occasionally? Like you sometimes do with me, when I get too far lost in things? And that would then also mean protecting you against me? Are you just too devoted, so you’ll let me do anything? So don’t I have the responsibility to decide what is reasonable and what isn’t?_

_But I’m an insane psychopath! Why do I have to be the one to decide what is reasonable?! I’m the worst person!_

_Argh!_

_You interrupt my spiral into confusion by pulling me into your arms and kissing me hard, which works like a drain cleaner on my mind. Seb is fine. Seb is happy. Seb is in love. Jim is all these things too. Stop ruminating. Go buy a bike, pay homage to a death saint, and come home to have a fuckfest. Sounds good._

_I pull you close, hop onto the dishwasher, wrap arms and legs around you, kiss you for a good few minutes - it’s remarkable how much better that makes me feel..._

_“I love you, Sebastian…”_

_Still those words make my heart soar... it’s_ _so delicious to just be able to say them, light of tongue and light of heart..._

 

 

The kissing goes on and on and eventually I pull away regretfully.

“If we want to go...” I start.

“I know, I know - “ you sigh.

We lock eyes again, and then we grab at each other and kiss madly. What the hell? We’ll be back in a couple of hours!

“Jim - “ I say in between kisses. “Jim - we have to - “

“I - _know_ \- “ you reply emphatically.

I manage to take a step back but my hands are still tightly clenching your shirt. “OK - we can do this. Two hours. And then we’ll be back home, and we can do whatever we want to each other... Bad choice of words, don’t - think about it...” I slowly pull my hands from your t-shirt, and smooth the fabric. “I think you’ll be disappointed if we don’t go... Won’t you?”

I don’t know what I’m hoping you’ll say. “Why is it so hard to leave??”

 

 

_"Because we'll be in public and probably get cold water thrown over us if we try humping each other. And there will be *other people*, who are annoying at the best of times. And we'll have to leave our bubble - but I think that may be a good thing. Get our heads into a different environment, might make us feel less - weird. I'm fine with the being madly in love and unable to keep my hands off you, but the whole loving you so much it hurts and feeling half stuck in a parallel world is making me a bit nervous. Let's see if going for a ride and worshipping a skeleton may put things into perspective."_

 

 

I laugh. "All right. It's a date - if you promise to put out after..."

"If you're lucky," you reply archly, but you eye me as I take your hand gallantly and kiss your fingers.

We finish cleaning up the kitchen, then go upstairs to get changed. I get into my biker gear, you keep on your v-neck t-shirt, and put on a light black jacket and black jeans. We go downstairs, and pause at the front door. "Time to leave the bubble..." I say dubiously.

We look at each other, not moving.

 

 

_“Sebastian Moriarty. Stop looking so unbelievably hot and get your bike,” I command with a resolve I do not feel. You cast a longing glance at me - you always say I look hot in jeans, but then you think I look hot in anything - heave a sigh, and head out to get your bike. I leave the helmets - I trust your skills and it’s too hot for them, despite last night’s storm having cleared the air a bit. Besides, I want to feel the wind blow all the cobwebs and sludge from my mind._

_I get on the bike, wrap my arms tightly around you, and we’re off._

 


	12. Our Lady of Shadows

I take us carefully down the strip with all the private villas - there’s _so much_ space in between them, and the properties are lined with palm trees. Every resident seems to value their privacy - we haven’t even seen anybody on this road. It really is a perfect location for us. It’s amazing how like a home it already feels after only a couple of weeks.

After a couple of minutes, we’re back on the main road that leads to the village. It’ll take about ten minutes. I feel myself relaxing as the wind whips against my face and hair. I love this feeling of freedom - and I love your arms around me as I ride. Part of me delights in the idea of each of us riding. Part of me hopes we’ll still go out on my bike. And I have to admit I’m a bit nervous - I don’t remember how long ago I saw you on a bike. You rode very well - unsurprisingly. It was hot. Suddenly I can’t wait to see you on your own bike. Your changeable nature seems to be rubbing off on me.

Before too long, we approach the village. I slow down and follow the directions señor Álvarez had sent. I park on a side street, remove the key, and step off the bike. You follow.

“The shrine is down the street from that big church...” I point out the large building to you. “We have thirty minutes, so let’s find flowers and we’ll go to the dealership after the ceremony...”

 

 

_"Alright," I agree._

_We walk through the main street, where there is a florist - a riot of colour greets us as we walk into the airconditioned space. I go for the roses, and see very dark wine red ones that are beautiful. I ask for a bouquet of those mixed with blood-red ones - looks perfect for a death saint to me._

_The florist asks if it's for 'una dama', and I nod sagely. He ties them up nicely with a red bow and soft red tissue paper and hands them to me with a knowing smile. I'm tempted to kiss you before we go out, but I don't want to start another riot - not before we've been to see the dama in question anyway._

_"Right, lead the way, Tiger..."_

 

 

I lead us to the big church and we continue down the sloping street. At the bottom of the street, there's a small faded sign indicating that the shrine of Nuestra Señora de la Santa Muerte is within.

"Our Lady of Holy Death," I say. "That's our girl..."

We look at each other as if to say, 'Are we really doing this?' and then I push open the door.

We go up a dark staircase, and down a dingy hallway and come to a door with the same sign. I look at you, shrug and knock.

I hear footsteps. The door swings open and a woman who looks to be in her early fifties appears in the doorway.

She wears a black dress with embroidered red flowers, and a headdress of brightly coloured flowers. She has long, lustrous black hair and smoky, mysterious eyes. Her eyes light up when she sees us.

"English, yes?" she asks with a heavily accented voice. "You are here for the Novena?"

"Yes and yes," I say, with a bright smile. I peer behind her and see no one else present. "If we're too early, we can come back - "

"Oh no. You're here just in time. My silly niece was supposed to help me but she just let me know she's not coming. I need someone strong to help carry the Pretty Girl out."

"Out? The ceremony isn't done here?"

"We do monthly ceremonies inside, but in November, we do the Novena outdoors. People will be gathering shortly, and then we can bring out la Flaquita... this means Skinny Lady. She has many pet names, our niña... And what is your name, cariño?"

"Sebastian," I say. "And this is Jim..."

"Ah! And one of her names is Santa Sebastiana! How perfect that you have come to carry her. You are very welcome, Sebastian and Jim. Wait right here..." she goes to the window. "People are still gathering. We have a couple of minutes. So tell me - are you tourists?" she says, looking at you. "How did you find out about our little shrine?"

 

 

_"Our landlord told us about it... he thought we might find her interesting, because..." I flick my eyes at you._

_"Ah yes! Our Lady is a lot more... loving of everyone than the Vatican says she should be. She doesn't judge - she loves unconditionally, like Jesus did. Jesus hung out with prostitutes, thieves, outcasts - he chose those people to be his companions, instead of the rich and powerful. So really, we should do the same. Treat all people with love and respect, regardless of who they are or what they do. And especially not judge them for loving! No one here will treat you wrong, señor. And if you want to ever get married - we do ceremonies too!" she laughs._

_I hold up my ring. "Already taken care of... but thanks. Your lady sounds a lot more pleasant than most of the saints I grew up with..."_

_She shakes her head. "The saints are perfect. The priests make them sound bad, judging, angry, all for their own purposes. Gathering money for the church so they can live in nice houses. See my house?" She gestures at a small room visible through a doorway, which holds a single bed and a desk. "Any money we get goes to people who need it. That's what the Lady asks of me, that is what I do. Our Lady is not difficult, cariños. She loves gifts, she loves receiving them, which I can see you have thought of, and she loves giving them. Join our celebration, give her your presents, and ask her for her gifts - she will give you what you need._

_Now, Sebastian, will you carry nuestra señora down? I'm sure she'll enjoy being carried by a handsome man like you!"_

_She laughs, but there's nothing flirtatious about it, and I find that I'm not at all piqued by the comment - she's merely stating the obvious, she's happy a handsome strong man has shown up to carry her lady out. I find myself liking her._

 

 

"It would be my pleasure, señora - ?"

"I'm called Doña Adonia... And may I ask, who is your landlord?"

"Señor Álvarez."

"Ah..." she looks at us with cunning understanding in her eyes. "Señor Álvarez has been a patron of our little shrine for many years. And he was delighted that one of his properties sold recently for a very good price. Would you be the new owners?"

I know you don't like sharing any information, but I like the lady. I throw a quick glance at you, and you nod.

"We are..."

"Wonderful! I hope you will be very happy there.

Well, I hope you enjoy the ceremony, and that you'll return. But first things first - follow me to our Lady..."

She leads me into the main space of the shrine, which is like a small chapel but with chairs instead of pews. At the front there are many votive candles burning. And in the centre on a raised dais is a large statue of a skeleton in a white veil and robe, surrounded by bouquets of flowers. I stand in awe in the middle of the room. Doña Adonia looks back, and smiles affectionately.

"She is beautiful, is she not?" She walks up to the statue and looks up adoringly. "And very generous with her boons and blessings. Do ask for what you want most when you leave your offering, Sebastian. Our Lady is listening..."

While I gaze at Santa Muerte, Adonia brings out a wooden litter decorated with flowers - the kind I've seen in footage of religious processions in South America. I'm just about to shake myself out of my stupor to help her when I hear footsteps behind me. Señor Álvarez appears, looking delighted to see me. He rushes over and kisses me on each cheek.

"Señor Lambert! How are you enjoying the villa?" he asks, shaking my hand enthusiastically.

"Very much, and thank you so much for all your help..."

"It's nothing, always come to me for anything you need, señor. I am delighted you are here! Doña Adonia, as soon as I heard about your niece from her mother, I came right over... you need help with carrying la Madrina?"

"Yes, perfect - you both can carry our Lady and I'll bring the candles and incense. Sebastian - please lift her carefully onto the litter..." I do so, feeling a strange sense of honour. Strange because before today, I'd never even heard of this mysterious skeleton saint prayed to by criminals and queers - and now I'm part of a religious devotional? Could today get any stranger? And yet, somehow it feels like I'm meant to be doing this, especially with you. I can't wait to see your face when we appear. Doña Adonia smiles at us, lights candles and incense and walks towards the door singing. We get into position, lift up the litter and begin to walk.

 

 

_There is something that comes over me when I see the statue. You and señor Álvarez carry her out in devotion, and..._

_I'm frozen to the spot. My catholic childhood images of Mary, the one I prayed to for help and compassion before I realized that it was all nonsense and threw them all out of my room... Mam was so angry when she found them, but she never made me take them back; she kept them in her own room..._

_There was one I particularly loved, where she was all in white, with just a little gold trim on her veil and dress, and she looked so sweet and loving... and they'd told me she could fix *everything* if only I prayed hard enough... so I prayed and prayed, spent entire nights on my knees... and I was convinced she was listening, and she smiled so sweetly, and then the next day Dad was still there, and he still got drunk, and he still beat us up, and when I went to ask her why she hadn't done anything, she still smiled so sweetly and I was so *angry* with her... and I tried again and again until I realized it was all bullshit - opium for the masses, to keep people like my mum from getting angry and rising up against their lot._

_But the *image* - I see that same veil, that same pose - but instead of the sweet promising smile, there is just the rictus of the skull - no false promises, no illusions, just the plain ugly phenomenal truth, the bare bones of the matter –_

_Holy Death..._

_She who saves everyone eventually, indiscriminately._

_The one I've been serving all my life, in a way..._

_In awe, I watch as you and Sr. Álvarez carry her past. You're carrying her so carefully, like she's infinitely precious, making sure she doesn't wobble, looking solemn - and you mean it._

_As the three of you make your way down the stairs, I follow, even more in a daze than I was when we were still at home._

_I have the feeling we are not getting away from the dark realm. If anything, we are going deeper inside..._

 

 

We carefully carry the litter down the stairs, and Adonia holds open the door for us. We come through as her singing grows louder and a collective intake of breath is heard from the gathered crowd. There are about thirty people gathered, watching with rapt expressions. There are some tears, some cries of _Señora Blanca_ and _Niña Santa_.

Adonia walks over to a small fountain which I hadn't even noticed, and gestures at us to put down the litter on a plinth.

She lets the incense waft over the crowd as she finishes her song, then places it in front of Santa Muerte.

She nods at us with a hand on her chest, and then beams at the crowd. I walk over to you in a daze and it doesn't feel strange at all to take your hand. If any crowd would understand, it's Santa Muerte's adoring followers.

 

 

_Outside, the congregation is a merry mixture. Three housewives from nearby, one of whom has recently had an affair with a woman. Two lesbian couples, three other gay couples. A transgender guy. Two guns for hire, a teacher, an ancient grandmother, a bus driver, three robbers, a beggar, two students, a waitress (six months pregnant), a cleaner, two prostitutes, two binmen..._

_My attention is distracted from the crowd as Adonia starts to sing again. I can't make out the words, but it's beautiful and enchanting. The devotees sing along with a certain part, which is a simple collection of syllables. The second time round I find myself joining in. You look at me surprised for a moment, but then start singing as well._

_Meanwhile, I can't keep my eyes off the Skinny Lady. It's like her eye sockets are gazing back at me..._

 

 

I hold your hand as the crowd sings, and you join them.

And we thought going out would give us a sense of normalcy? A statue of a skeleton has us both gazing up in rapture. In a throng of _other people_. Well, now I have truly seen everything...

When the song comes to an end, Adonia lights a candle and stands in front of Santa Muerte.

Silence falls over the crowd.

In a powerful voice, she says:

 

"And now we speak the prayer of the Holy Death:

Before the Divine Presence,

I ask for permission to invoke the most Holy Death.

Oh, Pretty Girl! Hermosa Niña Blanca!

Most gentle and loving Lady Death, appointed by the Divine to be our guardian, and who never leaves our side, how shall we thank You for Your love, and for the gifts which You grant us...

Watch over us when we sleep, comfort us when we are sad, avert the dangers that threaten us.

Please warn us of those dangers that may present themselves in our homes and on our paths.

 

Bring light with Your Holy Presence, to our homes, our workplaces, and the environments of our loved ones.

Bless us with health, love, prosperity, and well-being.

 

The challenges we face every day are perfecting our spirit.

La Santísima, we give You thanks because in the midst of our challenges

we always have Your Holy Blessing.

Thank you, Lady."

 

The crowd murmurs, and several people sigh "amen" and make the sign of the cross. Others do not.

It feels like we have ceased to be in the 'real' world - we're in _her_ realm now. How does this keep happening??

I look at you with wide eyes and hold onto your hand tightly.

 

 

_I’m drawn by the lady... not by Adonia’s prayer; it’s the same as prayers everywhere to every deity - please give us health and love and wealth, we are so grateful for everything even though we’re fucked over all the time, bla bla._

_But the lady herself... and the effect she has on this crowd... that’s something else._

_And the effect she has on *me*. And you. We’re not religious people - but we believe in death. And to see her here, personified..._

 

_Why do we kill? Or rather, why do *I* kill?_

_... it’s a habit? One that’s hard to give up. People are so *tedious*, and they’re so often in the way - so much easier to dispose of them. It’s like - decluttering._

_But there’s also - something pleasant about it. I *enjoy* killing. I know you do too - but I have the feeling for you it’s more the skill of the kill that gets you. You enjoy a good fight, a difficult hit._

_Whereas I... it’s not just the killing I like - I don’t get my hands dirty if I can help it, and bloodstains are *impossible* - it’s the power of life and death. Having that power over someone, over many people - that’s what gets my blood pumping._

_Interesting contemplations you’re evoking, lady... so you are that power personified, are you?_

_Deep down, what all these people here are asking is ‘not yet’. Please don’t take me, my son, my mother. Please heal us. Please give us enough food. We love you but we really don’t want to meet you..._

_But I do. I want to meet you and come back. But that’s not possible, so I enjoy your presence vicariously... by sending you people. Sometimes looking them in the eyes when I do so. And sometimes I see my reflection..._

_and sometimes I see you._

_So why am I intrigued by a statue of a skeleton? I don’t believe in saints, I don’t believe in remnants of Mexican death deities, I don’t let myself be swept away by mass hysteria - though I do love witnessing it. I love going to marches, football matches, riots... But I’m a spectator, not a participant._

_But here... something about you draws me in. And I don’t know what it is. And it fascinates me._

 

 

So here we are on our honeymoon... at a quasi-Catholic ceremony for the personification of Death. And we're both staring at this statue of a skeleton like she's come to life before our eyes and said our names. I don't know what everybody else is feeling and I don't care. But it feels like She's aware of our presence as much as we're aware of Hers.

Adonia speaks again, first in Spanish and then in English.

“This is Day 1 of the Novena of Santa Muerte. This is the time to come forward and leave your offering to our Señora de las Sombras, our Lady of Shadows. When you do, ask her for what you need and say Hail Holy Death three times."

She turns back to Santa Muerte, and her voice rings out.

"Oh, Holy Death!

May no obstacles block our path,

May we not fall into the snares laid for us by our enemies.

May you keep us from harm.

Let our work and everything we do, flourish.

May abundance overflow in our households,

May we be wrapped under Your protective mantle.

White Lady, we have need of Your holy assistance..."

 

She gestures at the crowd to go up to the statue, and they approach one by one. They stand or kneel in front of Santa Muerte, leave their offerings on the litter, whisper their prayers, and then return to the crowd looking transformed in some way - with shining eyes, or awestruck expressions, or wiping away tears.

I look at you holding the bouquet of blood-red roses, and I gesture at you to give me the bottle of tequila you've been carrying. Your eyes widen, and I walk up to Her - yes, I'm really doing this. I leave the bottle on the litter, and stare up at Her face.

"Santa Muerte, I didn't hear your name until today. But I've always known you, always felt your presence - you and I have had a hot and heavy flirtation all my life - and I've so longed for you as far back as I can remember. But I'm here to ask for a reprieve for both of us. It took me 42 years to find my love, and I'm not ready to go anymore. Please, please, please protect him. And protect me, too - for him. And when you come for us, let it not be just one of us - the other will have to follow quickly. I know you understand, because we're your creatures. Thank you, my Lady."

I close my eyes. "Hail Holy Death... Hail Holy Death... Hail Holy Death..." I whisper. And I look up to gaze at Her one long moment before returning to you. I have no idea what my expression is when you stare at my face.

 

 

_Ok._

_Right._

_Now I’ve seen it all._

_Sebastian Moriarty praying._

_Of all the things I’ve never expected to see in my life._

_And I know you - you’ve been praying for me. And you look at me in a way that makes me shiver as well as melt. Like you’re on drugs - lost a little in a world of your own - but very aware of me, like always. Interesting... the praying seems to have affected you..._

_I guess it’s my turn now. I walk up with the roses, lay them at the Lady’s feet. I’m not kneeling down, ok Lady? She smiles knowingly._

_So. Here I go. Ask some skeletal statue to take care of you. Like I’m not the biggest danger to your life and health._

_But you understand, don’t you, Lady? I suppose if you have lovers, it’s similar... they dance with death in order to be close to you..._

_I wonder, have you ever been in love with a mortal? So much so that you didn’t want him to die, but did want him close to you? How did you manage, when you knew that your very love was what was most likely to kill him? Did you cast him aside and break both your hearts? Did you consume him in your passion? Or did you find a third way, a way to both survive?_

_I guess I should be speaking out loud, shouldn’t I?_

_“Lady Death...” I whisper in English, because if one is a Saint surely one understands the meaning of words regardless of language, “I’m here to... well, offer you these roses... and to... well...” it’s not often I’m lost for words._

_“I feel a bit silly... I’m not religious at all. But if I were, you’d be my gal. I’ve been chasing death ever since I was small... and I’ve brought you a *lot* of sacrifices. And... I guess I’m here for Sebastian... he was here just now; he carried you downstairs as well. Anyway... he’s one of yours as well, definitely. And... I love him. But I’m a raging lunatic with a bad temper, and I tend to get myself into situations I can’t get out of and expect him to save me. And he does, he always does... but some day I’m afraid I’ll go too far... I’ll shoot him in a bout of rage, I’ll stab him, I’ll get us into a situation we can’t get out of... only this week, I tried to shoot him and I got him stabbed and nearly shot... and it’s supposed to be our honeymoon... “_

_I find to my dismay that tears are filling my eyes. I look into her eye sockets, and it must be the moisture in my eyes, but it almost looks like something... someone... is looking back._

_“So... if you can give me anything... I’d ask you... please help me keep my temper and control my impulses... help me to keep him safe....”_

_Tears are flowing freely now. I squeeze my eyes shut to get rid of the excess moisture, open them, look into the Lady’s eye sockets._

_Nothing. Of course not. What had I expected? Lapsed Catholic, brought back into the bosom of God by an epiphany on the eve of his 37th birthday?_

_That is faith, I realize... believing in something despite a total lack of evidence, of visible proof..._

_I don’t think it’s for me._

_But if there is the slightest chance that any of this will make any difference to you, will keep you a smidgen safer... then I’ll take that chance._

_I open my heart to the statue, so she can see how genuine I am, open my mouth, and speak “Hail Holy Death... Hail Holy Death... Hail Holy Death.”_

_Then I blow her a kiss, turn round, walk back to you._

 

 

Your eyes are wet. And you have a look on your face I've never seen before in the five years I've known you.... deeply peaceful? But mixed with wry irony? A kind of 'This just moved me more than I expected, but of course it's all crap, but also not... anyway, shut up, I love you' look. I have no idea how you managed to compose all of that into one expression. There's also a gleam in your eye, as though you're very aware of who and what you are - and as at peace as you may be in this moment, you're still a murderous little fucker and you're good with that. Of course - how could Lady Death make you feel anything else?

You take my hand firmly, and as the remaining people make their offerings, we lean against each other. I feel a sigh move through us, and I don't even know where it originated.

Adonia glides back to the statue, and speaks:

“White Angel of Death we call on You at all times to do justice for us.

Our Queen, our Mother, console us in our present necessity, and grant us Your help.

With our full trust and love, we pray to You.

 

In the Name of the Divine Trinity,

Immaculate Being of Light,

Until the last day, hour, and second when Your Divine Majesty brings us each into your embrace,

 

Dear Death of our hearts,

We pray to you, do not leave us unprotected.

Blessings to you, Lady.

Amen."

 

With that, she begins to sing. It's a gorgeous haunting melody, and I only catch a few of the Spanish words but I don't think you need to know the language to understand. After a couple of verses, she picks up the candle and incense, gestures at me and Sr. Álvarez to come to her.

I look back at you, and you look small and alone in the crowd. Adonia smiles and gestures at you next, pointing at the offerings and a large basket. I hadn't seen her carry it down, but I'm relieved I don't need to worry about bottles of tequila falling over as we walk. You place the offerings in the basket, leaving the flowers on the litter, and then the three of us follow Adonia back into the building, carrying Death and her offerings, as we listen to her beautiful mysterious song.

 

 

_Adonia leads us back up to the temple room, helps you and Sr. Álvarez replace the Lady on her dais, then rearranges the flowers, mixing the new with the old, plucking out one or two that don't look very fresh any more, still singing. Sr. Álvarez stands a bit back, hands folded. I'm spellbound by the song and the devotional actions of a priestess maintaining her altar, so I do the same, as do you._

_Adonia picks up a table on the side, places it in front of the dais, and spreads out a colourful cloth over it, then puts some bowls and trays on top. She reaches into the basket and arranges the offerings onto the little altar - pouring a generous quantity from several bottles of tequila in one, beer in another; arranging cigarettes and cigars on a small plate - some of which are still smoking. She lights candles and incense, all the while still singing her enchanting song. She places little items in between - animal bones, by the look of things, but I recognize one finger bone that I strongly suspect is human, and small folded pieces of paper that I assume hold people's prayers._

_She finishes by kneeling in front of the altar, spreading out her arms, singing a powerful finale directly at the statue that sends shivers down my spine. Her voice is not magnificent, though it is good and she can hold a tune, but the devotion and dedication that is evident in her singing is entrancing and moving even to me._

_Good grief Sebastian, what have you done to me?! First you're making me have *feelings*, and *love*, and now I'm attending religious ceremonies and being moved by them!? What next - bake sales and kids' parties?_

_I notice your hand is holding mine - I don't recall you taking it, but I am glad it's there. Wherever we are now, and I'm really not sure, we're there together._

 

 

Adonia bows her head briefly, and whispers. She makes some kind of gesture which does _not_ look like the sign of the cross, and then stands. She and Sr. Álvarez murmur to each other for a moment, then kiss each other on the cheeks.

He then walks over to us. "I'm very happy you're here," he says, clasping our hands and then kissing us both on each cheek. "Remember - you call for anything," he says firmly, then slips out the door.

And then there were two...

Adonia smiles at us. "So. The Pretty Girl likes you. It is maybe not such a coincidence that you ended up here?"

I'm not sure if she means at the shrine or in Mexico, and I'm not sure I want to find out.

"Well, we're glad we did... thanks so much, it was really quite fascinating..."

I hear a small snort coming from you. When I feel unsure of myself, I default to my former oh-so-polite and posh self. I grit my teeth at the thought and ignore your eye-rolling. Piss off, Jim. I'm in a shrine with a priestess, and she's implying a skeleton statue had something to do with us being here today... or coming to Mexico in the first place? I'm allowed to cover up feeling a little spooked.

Adonia smiles at me knowingly. Fuck.

"Well, if you ever want to find out more about your path, I do consultations. Here." She plucks a brochure from a table near the shrine, and hands it to me. "There's information there about Santa Muerte, our ceremonies, and the work I do - for individuals and couples."

She smiles slyly. "The Bony Lady always knows when we need help; I'm glad she sent you."

 

 

_Ah, this is the bit where we're getting converted into the Church of Sacred Death. I don't really do organized religion - or even disorganized religion, thank you. The day I recognize any power above me is the day I hang up my guns and retire to the Arkham Asylum for the Exhausted Insane._

_But I can't deny that it's been a very inspiring experience, and I'm glad we went._

_Adonia hugs and kisses us both, thanks us for coming, and invites us to come again - the Novena lasts for nine days, but we are welcome any time._

_As we are outside, I look up at the sky - still overcast, quite unlike what we've had so far, though it's still oppressive and hot._

_"Let's take a walk and have a look around before we go to the bike shop - maybe have something to eat," I suggest._

_You're still holding my hand. With an expression of guilt I pull mine away - I'm not in the mood to attract attention, and not everyone here will be a Santa Muerte devotee..._

 

 

It feels good being out with no agenda, if a bit odd. We really haven't explored our surroundings even though we've been here almost two weeks - but we've been a bit busy between therapy on the beach, fucking each other, not killing each other, and falling into an underworld realm.

Yeah, it's good to have a little break.

Your expression when you drop my hand is heartbreaking - hot fury starts to pour into my heart and I look around murderously. I know you're right, and we can't take on the world and risk a massacre in broad daylight ten minutes away from our home. But it doesn't make me any less thirsty for retribution against those who would dare say shit to us - say shit to _you_ , a fucking god walking among them. They have no clue what we're capable of, that we could burn this village to the ground if we wanted, wipe it from the face of the motherfucking earth...

I blink and pull myself with difficulty out of my murder fantasy. OK, so I have some unresolved rage about any homophobic threat to my man.

Problem is, it will _never_ be resolved for me, because I don't trust this world... not for an instant.

I silently reiterate my prayer to Santa Muerte, and I feel the rage drain from me. OK, that was weird, am I just going to start praying to her now? Whatever. I feel better. One more thing to make sense of - later. Right now, I'm walking with my love exploring our new neighbourhood and looking for a good place to eat. And this makes me unbelievably happy. I look down and see you've been looking at me with concern.

I wink at you and grin. "I'm starving. Do you feel like Mexican food?"

You groan and roll your eyes, and I laugh. And we head towards a row of food stands and small restaurants, as music plays and people talk and laugh, and the smell of food wafts over us and beckons us forward.

 


	13. Keep Calm and Have Fucking Enchiladas

_I'm looking at you after I've let go of your hand - a face journey expressing rage and challenge at a word which would think about daring to criticize our love. Oh I agree, my love... but if we start a blood bath on the town square it's going to be hell to get lunch. Then your face changes to an inward look - wait - you're not *praying*, are you!?!_

_That's it. You've gone more mental than me. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I wonder when the little shrine to Santa Muerte will turn up in the villa._

_Well, wasn't I the one who said you were prone to religion? You worship me after all, it only makes sense that you would be drawn to revere another personification of death…_

_We walk through the streets, taking in the shops, the sights, the smells, the sounds. It really feels like a holiday now. I don't think we've ever just walked around a place without an agenda._

_There's a terrace that looks very popular and the smells coming at us do draw us closer. It's a simple place, with plastic tablecloths with little vases with plastic flowers, but the food people are eating looks and smells delicious. A waitress sees us look, hurries over. "Table for two? If you wait two minutes, that table has just asked for the bill. " She rushes to a small rickety table where two men hand over some cash and get up to leave. She gives the tablecloth a quick wipe and gestures at us to sit. "I'll be right back with your menus - would you like to order a drink?"_

_I smile at her: "Two beers and two tequilas, please."_

 

 

I sit and look at you questioningly. "Tequila? Haven't had any since our first evening here..." I smile with remembrance. "Fuck, that was an amazing night. We've had so many here... I do wonder how long we'll end up staying. I can't even imagine packing up our shit and leaving, can you? I mean, I know we will eventually and we can come back whenever we want... but right now, it feels like a fucking enchanted realm that has me under its spell. Maybe it's the appreciation for death this land has, all the way back to the Aztecs. All those temples, hearts being cut out, bodies thrown down the bloody steps... I guess it leaves its mark. Maybe Adonia was right. Maybe it was no accident we ended up here. Or maybe it's a total fucking coincidence, but - it feels right to me. How are you feeling about being here, babe?"

 

 

_Well there we go. Sebastian Moriarty has gone metaphysical._

_"I have to say, Mexico's history does seem particularly bloody. Huitzilopochtli, god of war, allegedly had between twenty to eighty thousand people sacrificed to consecrate his great pyramid, and some modern historians believe that the Aztecs sacrificed around a quarter of a million people a year. And worshipping a skeleton saint... somehow I can't imagine *any* other culture doing it. And it has a rich and flourishing underworld... which reminds me, we will have to go see Eduardo one of these days or he'll be miffed. If you want to, that is - if you don't, I don't mind making up some excuse... but I'm kind of keen to show off my handsome husband," I smile._

_"I don't know... it was your idea to go here... a remnant from your fascination when you were a student? Santa Muerte calling you across the waters? Regardless - I feel fine here. I'd be happy to stay here - I like the warmth though I'm not too keen on the sun. And I'm not sure I'll be too happy wearing proper suits around here - will have to have some lightweight ones made. But I think maybe we would feel this way about anywhere where we had spent such - significant, amazing days."_

_The waitress arrives with the menus, apologizes for not having English ones. I assure her we'll be fine._

 

 

"Well, it's November... I've already felt the air get a bit cooler in the last couple of days. You actually miss wearing suits?" I quirk my lips as I try to read the menu. "Not I! Well, it's probably not a good idea to be here during the hottest time of the year - you'd be miserable. I think the heat starts picking up again in February..." I frown at the menu.

"Oooh. Enchiladas. I like those... Of course I'll come with! I go where you go. Besides, I'd love to see the look on Eduardo's face. Did you already tell him we got married?"

 

 

_“He knows I’m married and am here on my honeymoon - but he doesn’t know who my husband is. I don’t know what his informers have told him - but I don’t think they’ll have more info than that my husband is an incredibly handsome tall muscular blond, so not sure if he’ll have made the link to my bodyguard. He’ll be so jealous - he ogled you good last time we were here,” I grin. “As did Elena... and the waitress just now... I can’t wait until you’re old and grey and I don’t have to kill everyone who lays eyes on you... though you’re going to be one of those annoying people who just get grey and remain hot, I can tell.”_

_I look at the menu but your mention of enchiladas has made me want them too. “I’ll get the chicken and you the beef and we share?” You nod and gesture to the waitress, who turns up quickly, and I order. You get the attention, I do the language - perfect teamwork._

_“I miss wearing suits, yes - I like to dress to impress. Not all of us look dashing in jeans and a t-shirt - or absolutely droolworthy in leathers...”_

_I let my eyes roam over you - god I can’t wait to get you home..._

_“I don’t really know what I want to do - stay here for the winter, get back to whip the empire into shape, head somewhere else entirely..._

_There’s one thing I’d like to do at some point though. Go to Ireland, kill my dad, if he’s still alive, piss on his grave if he isn’t. It’s his fault that Mam and Georgie are dead, ultimately. I’ve always been scared of going back - was aware it would probably bring back lots of unwanted memories - but I’ve had those now. And if you’re with me - I can deal with anything.”_

_I... had not planned on saying that. I was just thinking of places in the world where we could go, thinking of places we hadn’t been - and yes, Ireland is one of them. I’m still a bit wary - like Ireland is going to suck all my good fortune straight out of me and send me back as a dry husk - but my anger at my dad is greater._

_I’ve killed people who wronged me way less - I need to know he’s dead. And preferably do it myself._

_While we’re at it, we could have a stab at your dad too, if you want... I know I long to have a good long talk with Lord Augustus. But I’ll leave that up to you._

 

 

I blink. “OK... Whatever you need, darling. Just say where and when, and I’m with you all the way.”

I try to resist the next thought, and I can’t. What about _you_ , Seb? Do you need to kill your father, too? I couldn’t do that to my mother, I protest weakly. And then I remember how he treated her, before I left home and never returned. And _then_ I remember that day last week, remembering _what he did_... Remembering David, who never lived past fifteen...

My jaw clenches and black rage fills my muscles, turning them to stone.

“I know someone who needs to die, too...”

 

 

_... yes, you're thinking of it... you're considering..._

_I sip my beer silently as I'm watching anger fill you._

_Yes._

_"I don't think I've ever heard a more romantic proposition than 'let's go and kill each other's fathers'..." I muse._

_"I am right there with you, babe. However you want it, whatever you need. You know that." I put my hand on yours._

_My wheels start whirring. I may be able to do something better than kill..._

(It's easier to think of revenge on Lord Moran rather than your own dad, isn't it, Jim? _)_

_Go away. I don't even know if my dad is still alive._

_But *your* dad... there may be something more fitting than his death. Something less upsetting to your mum, uncle, and grandmother, if you care about what they feel._

_I'll have a think._

_I turn over your hand, stare at your wrist. "So. Here we are, on our honeymoon. We've just brought offerings to the Goddess of Death. And now we've decided to kill our fathers. Sebastian Moriarty, we are the most awesome couple on the planet."_

_I smile at you. God, I love you..._

 

 

I smile back at you, enjoying your hand on mine. "We're the awesomest..." I agree, "and it's romantic as fuck." Idly I draw circles on your palm. Now we're gazing at each other, like each of us wants to throw the other on the table and break some crockery.

I gently kiss the inside of your wrist, then lick it. I shake salt onto it, and push your shot glass towards you. I repeat the steps for myself, then raise the shot glass in their air. You follow suit, and looking at each other, we throw back the shot in unison. I take a lemon slice from a plate, and push it into your mouth before taking one for myself. As we both suck our lemon slices, I can't tear my eyes away from yours. I throw my lemon onto the plate.

"I can't wait to see you on a bike..." I say low in my throat. "You are _so_ getting lucky tonight...”

 

 

_"Stop it, or I'm going to throw you over this rickety table, pull down your trousers, and fuck you raw; and I don't think it would survive that. Also we might have to then kill people who are starting to whine about the appropriateness and that might postpone the serving of our enchiladas." I can already see a hostile glare from some idiot two tables away, I glare back and he hastily buries his face in his phone. Calm down Jim... can't kill them all... but if I'll ever be tempted to donate to a charity it'll be one that fights fucking homophobia. Why can that guy over there tongue his girlfriend all he likes but when my fucking husband wants to kiss me I have to stop him lest we end up killing up the entire fucking restaurant? It makes me furious, and that makes me want to kill the entire fucking restaurant..._

_No Jim, we are lying low and keeping calm and having fucking enchiladas..._

_But there's no way I can stop touching you. I stroke your wrist, sip my beer, suppress both my rage and my urge to fuck you right here and right now, and am relieved when the waitress comes with our orders. It smells delicious and both blood lust and flesh lust are momentarily suspended as I realize I'm actually quite hungry._

_We swap one enchilada each and tuck in._

 

 

The enchiladas are delicious... we are definitely coming back here. And the place seems mostly laid back except for that idiot who was glaring at us. I have half a mind to follow him when he heads to the toilets, but you shake your head at me.

Well as much as I feel at home here, that's something in favour of living in London. Yeah, you'll find arseholes anywhere - but I want to be able to take your hand and touch you whenever the fuck I want.

You're eating and watching me like you know every thought running through my mind - and you probably do. You always were an insightful fucker - well, except for the whole me being madly and desperately in love with you for four years thing, but you had a vested interest in being in denial about that...

So you want to see what's going on in my head, Jim? Here's something fun for you... I start picturing riding our bikes to the same spot by the beach... climbing up onto the same boulder... me stripping you naked, and fucking your sweet arse as the waves crash onto the shore... I'm kissing you hungrily, biting your neck, pulling your hips hard against me...

Oh, fuck... I feel myself getting flushed and aroused, and drink the rest of my beer quickly. I try to think of a non-sexy conversation topic, but my mind is a complete blank. Oh, bloody brilliant, Sebastian...

 

 

_These are amazing... no wonder this place is packed. Steaming hot and just rightly spiced... the conversation halts for a moment as we are both enjoying our food._

_You want to beat up the guy who looked at us, but no Tiger... I understand, but let's not get into another brawl where we might get hurt or people might get pissed off at us killing their relatives..._

_It's always fun to try to read your thoughts. You're thinking back - to Before, probably... and then you're thinking ahead, at pleasant stuff and... ah... that's quite a delicious flush on your cheeks and your pupils are definitely growing darker... mmm... I wonder what you are picturing? Me stripping off leather biker gear? Us fucking when we get back home?_

_Whatever it is, it's making you all hot and bothered. Bless you..._

_I stroke my foot along the inside of your leg under the table. You look at me and –_

_oh fuck._

_I was being amused at the effects of this on *you*, but kind of forgot what you looking at me like that does to *me*._

_We're both breathing harder. I don't need a mirror to know my pupils are dilated. My jeans are getting uncomfortably tight. I want to adjust myself but I can't move._

_Fuck. Does this place have toilets?_

 

 

The way you're looking at me and fidgeting on your chair...

Are you...

Fuck.

I exhale, and run my fingers lightly along your wrist.

Your eyes close briefly, and when they open... it's as though the dark realm is gazing back at me. Your beauty takes my breath away, and lust starts to burn through me.

I flinch - now it's my turn to fidget.

Where's a boulder on a beach when you need one??

My eyes flick to the back of the restaurant where a hallway is clearly marked with a sign for the toilets... and back to you.

Then I get up and head for the hallway.

 

 

_I count to sixty - that’ll do. I leave my jacket so the waitress doesn’t think we’ve run off without paying (or even finishing our food) and follow you to the loo - it wouldn’t be my first choice for a dalliance, but at least it’s reasonably clean. I see your boots underneath one of the stall doors and push it open, jump you whilst pushing it shut. You lock the door behind me as I’m kissing you like I’ve been wanting to for *ages* - this morning seems forever ago - and digging my hand into your waistband._

 

 

We haven't done this in so long... but back in the early days when we were on a job, this would not be an uncommon occurrence. You generally preferred to wait until the job was done, so we could at least jump each other in the car afterwards. But sometimes burning lust swept through us and we could not restrain ourselves. I'm glad to see being married hasn't changed us... god, we've been going at it non-stop since saying our vows. And now here we are, pressed up against each other in a stall, and things are getting hot and heavy _fast_... I moan softly into your mouth as I feel your hand grasp my cock. I press you against the wall as I unfasten your jeans and yank them down over your hips.

 

 

_God you look so fucking *hot* with your face all flustered and a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead; your eyes a deep dark blue, your t-shirt illegally tight across your muscles, which are moving as you're grabbing me..._

_The other stall wasn't occupied, but we still have to keep it quiet, I guess, so I do my very best to suppress my moan as you grab my cock and begin to move your hand._

_This is like the old days... sexual tension would just build and build whenever we were in any proximity to each other, resulting in frantic darts to dark corners, bathrooms, alleyways... My men sometimes looking puzzled or startled at our sudden dashes but too scared to ask - poor Ollie once thought he was supposed to follow and got an eyeful and a snarl for his efforts._

_"Fuck... Seb..." I whisper against your jaw._

 

 

“Oh... _god_ , Jim...” I say delirious with desire.

I press you harder against the wall, kissing your jaw and neck before returning to your mouth. I’m stroking your cock firmly. I’m tempted to drop down and suck you off, tempted to shove you against the wall and fuck you senseless. But I have no idea how long we have before we’re interrupted, so anything fancier should wait until I get you home.

“God, why did we ever leave the house?” I ask desperately as I devour your lips and my hand moves faster. “I fucking _want you_...”

 

 

_"I want you, Tiger... I want you, *god* I want you... We are so going to spend the rest of the day fucking when we get home... in every configuration you can think of... I'm going to fuck that adorable arse of yours after you've stripped your gear off for me... I'm going to suck that fucking delicious cock... then we'll take a nap and start all over again... see how your skin is doing... I do long to whip that arse again..." I dig my nails into said arse as I speed up my stroking of your cock._

 

 

Our breathing grows loud and irregular. " _Fuck_ , Jim... I want it. All of it. Whip me, fuck me, suck me," I groan, as I yank your head to the side so I can suck on your neck. "And then, it's my turn - I haven't fucked you in days... I need your sweet arse, I need to _bury_ myself in you..." I whisper fiercely into your ear, and then I'm overcome with lust and I start to stroke you hard and fast. "Oh, _god_ , baby..."

 

 

_Hard and fast, quick and dirty, like we used to be... but so much better... god Tiger... I’ll never stop lusting for you. We’ll be the terror of the old people’s home. Satan himself will get exasperated with all our rutting in hell._

_And if anyone walks in now there’s not going to be any hiding of what we’re up to... we’re both breathing fast, moving fast, and hurtling headlong towards that blessed release we have been denied for... oh, hours by now._

 

 

Fuck me, I'm getting close... we have a beautiful villa with the most gorgeous beach, and there's something about jumping each other in a public space that's So. Fucking. Hot. Your jeans shoved down to your knees... your back against the toilet stall... our desperate kissing, the furious stroking of our cocks, as they rub against each other ... trying to muffle our groans against each other's bodies... c'mon baby... I can't hold on much longer...

"Jim, you're so fucking hot - come for me, baby, come for me, angel - " I moan into your neck. " _Fuck_ , I love you, baby..."

 

 

_I so long to fuck you, but I can't, not now, not here –_

_In the past I've fucked you in toilet cubicles, using just spit for lube, or wanking you off before and then using your come... but I wouldn't do that any more... I want you to enjoy yourself when I'm fucking you, not gritting your teeth until it's over._

_Look at me being all altruistic..._

_"Yes..." oh god your words - like I needed the encouragement... "I will Seb... I am... fuck... oh god..."_

_Speaking of gritting teeth... I'm doing my very best to be quiet as I shudder, pouring myself out into your eager deft hand._

 

 

Oh thank Christ... I press my lips to your neck as you come, and cradle your head against mine. I love your sounds, even your quiet ones. I think of my ring with the soundwave of your orgasm and I grin madly, imagining how we'll come loud and hard when we return home... and at this thought I'm groaning and coming in shuddering spurts against your hand and the stall. I'm louder than you, always have been - even when I'm trying to keep it down. I'm gasping for breath as I shiver against your body. Your arms tighten around me, and I lean against you. "Oh god," I whisper. "It just keeps getting hotter with you, baby..."

 

 

_I’m rewarded for my efforts with groans, gasps, and beautiful Tiger seed._

_We’re clinging to each other, getting our breathing back to normal, grabbing toilet tissue to clean up our hands, cocks, your trousers (fortunately leather) and the wall of the stall, grinning at each other, giggling softly like two naughty boys._

_“Well, that was like old times...” I whisper. “You wouldn’t say we were an old married couple...”_

 

 

"Not if you wanted to live to see another day..." I grin at you, and kiss you. "Well, that was - umm. Delightful. Yes, it was like old times - only better. _So much better_... Fuck, that was hot..."

We look into each other's eyes and kiss sweetly. And kiss again. More whispering and giggling ensues as we straighten each other's clothes.

"I guess we should head back," I sigh regretfully and leave the stall. We look at ourselves in the mirror - we both look flushed and bright-eyed, with mussed hair and besotted grins. We catch each other's eyes and burst out laughing - it would be obvious to anyone who looked at us what we'd been up to.

"Fuck it," I say, beaming at you. "You make the rules - no one else."

I run a hand through my hair, and go to the door which I hold open for you. "After you, my prince."

We walk through the restaurant, and I can feel myself smirking. A couple of people glance at us, and then return to their food and conversations. Hurrah - no blood bath required.

We slide back into our seats, and you're pressing your lips together and making an effort not to look at me. I squeeze your thigh under the table and you bat my hand away. Snickering, I sip my beer. The enchiladas are room temperature but still delicious.

"As much as it's hard to be out in the world and not all over each other... There's one thing to be said for forbidden love," I say dramatically, and you finally look at me. I lean in across the table. "It's _so fucking hot_..." I growl, giving you a steamy look. I raise my beer and you clink yours to mine, grinning madly.

 

 

_“I’m pretty sure that’s just you. Wherever you are, I want you. At home in the villa, on the beach, riding through perfectly innocent countryside, in a restaurant where the food really deserves better than being abandoned halfway through... and it’s not just me. Everyone who lays eyes on you wants you. What’s that like? Is it pleasant or tiring? It’s bloody annoying to me; I keep wanting to kill everyone who throws themselves at you... I think that’s part of the reason I kept you on such a short leash, I was jealous as hell...”_

 

 

My eyes widen at this admission. "You were jealous?? God, you played your cards close to the chest! I'm just glad you weren't interested in anyone else... it was hard enough being in love with you and not really having you... I would have _lost my shit_ if there had been anyone else in the picture... " I shiver at the thought. "Well, I don't think _everyone_ wants me... but I don't really think about it, to be honest. When I was a free agent, I guess it was nice and it was convenient having people just fall into bed so easily. But at the same time, if you don't have to try too hard, then... it's all just meaningless. After a while, it was _pleasurable_ , it was _fun_... but not really _exciting_. It didn't light my fire, by any stretch of the imagination... _You_ on the other hand... you made me have a bloody meltdown every day. _All day_ every day. For _five years_... and you haven't stopped. You're a fucking sex god... the only reason you don't have people throwing themselves at you constantly is that they're _terrified_..." I grin. "Rightly so. And that worked out well for _me_."

 

 

_I grin at that. “Well, yes, I am terrifying... when people have thrown themselves at me, they haven’t enjoyed the experience... if they survived._

_So the reason you wanted me so much was me playing hard to get? So does that mean it’s going to get less now I’m easier? Should I make myself more challenging again?”_

 

 

I laugh. “I don’t think it was because you were playing hard to get, my adorable psychopath... god, please don’t make yourself more challenging. We’re already challenging enough!! And _no_ , I won’t want you less... you’re hardly the same as those other people. You’re a category onto yourself... I need a _lifetime_ to explore you. I won’t be satisfied with anything less.”

 

 

_“I don’t know... maybe we’re losing the spark... absence makes the heart grow fonder and everything...”_

_I see your face cloud over and realize that was the stupidest thing I could have said._

_I wince. “I’m sorry Tiger. That was ... I’m sorry.”_

_I reach out my hand, lay it on yours. “I’m never leaving again. Not ever. I don’t want to spend one more night away from you.”_

_Idiot, Moriarty..._

_You smile wryly._

_Yes, we will discuss stuff... soon. Not in a fucking restaurant. I take another sip of my beer. Why does beer always taste so bitter? Why do you like this stuff so much? Is it just a masculine man thing, where you aren’t allowed to drink nice drinks like cocktails or sweet wine?_

_I look up at you. You’re drinking your own beer, looking for all the world like you’re enjoying it. It might be that masculine men have different taste buds._

_I rub your hand._

_“I love you, Sebastian.”_

 

 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder?? More like Death makes the heart break into a thousand pieces... Jesus.

My heart squeezes painfully. Luckily you realize your mistake, and you apologize - I’m still getting used to that.

And then you touch me and say lovely words, and my heart starts to let go of its pain. Not all of it - how could I ever forget the nightmare I lived through? But I’m trying not to dwell - we’re out so rarely, and I really am enjoying it. I drink my beer, enjoying the memory of a good meal and the mad scramble to the toilets to get each other off. And soon, we’ll be on bikes! It’s a good day - a very good day.

Then you’re telling me you love me, and my pleasure increases a hundredfold. A thousandfold. I beam at you.

“I love you too, Jim. Wanna go for a ride?”

 

 

_I’m so relieved you’re not holding on to the pain - you are such a generous and forgiving man - well, you’d have to be, to put up with me._

_I smile, wave at the waitress for the bill, pay with a generous tip, and we head off to the bike shop. I don’t really like the idea of matching bikes but I’m a sucker for a good pun, and I can’t resist the temptation to ride the Tiger. Besides, it looks cool. I take it for a short spin round the block - yes, it works, feels as good between my legs as you’d expect from a Tiger, and handles like a dream. I buy it from the delighted dealer, along with some black leather gear that doesn’t look half as good on me as on you, but still makes you look at me like you’re about to throw me over the bike and fuck me right there in the shop._

_As we drive off, I feel exhilarated - I haven’t ridden a bike in years, and never just for the fun of it - but I can’t deny it *is* fun. You’re going to be eating a lot of little black flies if you keep grinning so widely, I think, before I realize my own smile matches yours._

_So this is being a couple and having fun, outside of sex._

_It’s a lot less trite than I’ve ever given it credit for._

 

 

The ride home is awesome. You had ridden carefully for the test drive, reacclimated to being on a bike, and now you’re looking so confident - you peel out of the lot, and I quickly follow. I don’t know if you’re going to want to go for a ride first, but you’re heading in the direction of home. Had enough of being out in the world, Jim?

It’s not a long ride but it feels amazing to be riding fast and hard, with the wind whipping through our hair.

We go tearing down our street and swing into the driveway. We park our bikes in the garage and the moment we get off them, we’re kissing feverishly and pawing each other’s leather gear. Oh - getting bikes was the best idea _ever_.

 

 

_I *have* to get you alone - not just on a boulder, lovely though that is. I want you all for me alone again, without other people or even the risk of other people. I enjoyed our trip - and it sure seems to have cleared our heads - but I do miss this little (well... little...) bubble of *just* us, no disturbances... it would appear to me that just you and me is challenging enough without adding the rest of the world into the already volatile mix._

_We manage to make it into the house, up the stairs, into the bedroom, barely, leaving a trail of black leather. I recall I was going to make you strip, but that can wait until later - now any clothing on you is too much and needs to go *fast* or I will cut it off. I'm all over you, kissing, biting, licking last night's wounds, but then you roll me over and growl and dig your teeth into my neck, and I surrender to your aggression - such a new sensation, and *such* a sign of massive trust, but so so sweet..._

 

 

I press my hips against you as I'm biting your neck. My cock pushes insistently in between the cheeks of your arse.

"Fuck," I mutter. Looks like there's not going to be much foreplay. I press harder against you. Or _any_...

I reach for the drawer in the nightstand, and fumble for the lube. I squeeze the gel onto my fingers, and begin to prepare you. Yesterday's Day of Domination was amazing, heady, mind-blowing... my submission to you was farther and deeper than I've ever gone before. But now I'm hungering to be the aggressor... to plunder your body, to feel myself move deeply inside you, to make you moan and writhe beneath me...

I used to have to wait until you told me when I could do this... and then I got to a place where I would just make a move and hope not to get thrashed within an inch of my life for it... it's a testament to how far we've come with each other that I can just do this now without thinking, without _strategy_... to take your body out of aching desire and a burning drive to possess you... I pull my fingers out of you, and yank your hips up. I move my cock into position and hear myself growling, " _Fuck_ , I want you" before pressing into you firmly.

I advance steadily and slowly, moving forward inch by inch, until you're pushing back against me... writhing desperately. I lean over you, wrap my arm around your chest and hold you still. I bite your ear, and relish the gasp that escapes from your lips. I slowly push deeper into your arse, wedging myself into you and grinding slowly. I grin as you start to moan and I pull back. _Mine_ , I think and drive into you hard.

 

 

_Oh, my, *Tiger*..._

_God you're hot when you get aggressive._

_It's so new for me to be able to *let go*, to release control to someone else - inconceivable at any point Before; I'd promised myself I'd never ever let someone else take possession of my body again. And I definitely wouldn't let *you* take control, because if I let you take over god knows what you might have done... kissed me softly, looked into my eyes sweetly, massaged my neck, stroked my cheeks... *way* too dangerous. I'd let you fuck me, sometimes, but I was always firmly in charge of the operation. I told you what you could do, sometimes I'd even give you carte blanche, but you'd be well riled up by then and I could be sure that any actions would be of an aggressive nature. And I'd always hold the strings - one move that I didn't like and you'd be off me, likely being punished for not giving me what I had had in mind._

_This... is different. It's *trust*. I know you won't do anything I won't like because I *trust* you, not because I am staying in control. I'm surrendering, and that is an entirely new, incredibly heady sensation. I never saw the appeal in it - the times in my life when I'd surrendered was because I had been forced to a point where I was incapable of fighting any more, and I hated it. I couldn't understand why someone would ever voluntarily let themself be put into that position, even with a person one trusted - surely it's always better to be in control, even of a person I trust, and have the stuff happen that *I* want, rather than what the other wants? I'm not sure if it's tied in with love, but right now, I can't imagine anything I desire more than having you use me as you want. You are so fucking hot, your desire for me arouses me no end, and the best thing I can imagine right now is for you to take all the pleasure you can get from me._

_And you seem to agree... you don't hesitate, you push into me firmly, not hurting, but not dithering, and I want you *so much*... I find myself pushing back, it's alright Tiger, you can go deeper, harder, faster... I'm squirming and you grasp me, hold me still, bite me... and I sink deeper into that soft space of surrender, surrender into my Tiger's claws... Held, fucked, possessed, by the man I love - I never realized how incredibly good that could be... will you never stop amazing me, Tiger?_

 

 

Your body surrenders to me... _you_ surrender to me. This is a rush unlike any other... This is ground that is at once hallowed and the most dangerous territory I have ever encountered. And I say this as someone who has been through SAS training, military battles, and a career as an assassin in a vicious criminal underworld. None of it compared to being your sex toy, your plaything, your worshipful slave... _nothing_ has brought me closer to the edge of life and death than you.

So to find myself where I am now... madly, wildly in love, two weeks into my honeymoon, and balls-deep in you... fucking you slow and hard, driving you mad... is taking me into a state of outright euphoria. I’m laughing low in my throat at the pleasure sizzling through me... burning up the being known as Sebastian Moriarty until all that’s left is rampant desire and animal instinct. That’s where I’m fucking you from - that deep, dark space within that carries the innate knowledge of the cave and the desert and the jungle ... that primal source opening up in me now, breaking free from my chains...

I breathe in your scent, and my arm tightens around your chest... my fingers grasp your hip, hard enough to bruise... I’m pulling you against me as my cock strokes into you rhythmically...

“You’re _mine_ ,” I say hoarsely against your ear. “You hear me, baby? If anyone comes near you - whether it’s to hurt you or fuck you - know that I will rip them to shreds... that’s a _promise_...” I growl, and bite down on your neck.

 

 

_I'm being fucked, taken, *possessed*, by a man who knows what he's doing, and it's fucking *glorious*. You're holding me in a grip from which I couldn't escape if I wanted to, your fingers digging bruises into my skin, I can't move, I'm being immobilized and fucked and I don't think I could have let this happen even a week ago... but now... it's good, it's what I want, what I need... and more importantly, what you want. I can see the appeal in what you said... about being the object of another's want... I don't think I'll make it my regular thing, but it does have a certain allure._

_You're pulling me back, the angle of your cock changing in me, making me groan and shiver, and then you're growling into my ear –_

You're mine...

_Oh, Sebastian... dare you go there? You love living dangerously, don't you..._

_But you are right, in a way... In our new configuration you can't be mine without me being yours... I realized that that first night. And the rest of your words are innocent enough, though deliciously possessive. My own Tiger, ready to rend anyone who so much as looks at me..._

_Protectiveness and jealousy combining into a heady volatile mix- oh god you're biting my neck... I moan, the combination of pleasure, pain, submission to this strong, hot soldier, making me dizzy with lust._

_"Yours, Tiger..." I whisper hoarsely._

 

 

There was just a moment's pause before you acquiesced, where in the back of my mind I wondered if I'd gone too far for you... this too is dangerous territory. But I have no doubt you'll tell me when I've crossed a line. I seem to have wandered just close enough to the edge to warrant your consideration of my actions, as I feel your careful assessment sweeping over me... but it's also close enough to be darkly thrilling for both of us. And this is the razor-thin space where I live - the sweet spot between life and death, danger and pleasure.

And speaking of sweet spots... another angle change, and I've found yours. I'm rubbing against it over and over, making you moan and shiver.

Mmm, Kitten... make those delicious sounds for me...

"Fuck, you feel so good..." I groan, and plunge into you again and again.

 

 

_Somehow saying it makes it more real. Saying it in a sexual, possession context, rather than in a marriage ceremony one._

_You're fucking me deeper, still holding me, I'm helpless in your grip, and it feels good... I can let go, let my mind stop whirring, stop demanding I plan and anticipate and design and control, and can just... relax, just be... Just feel... Feel what it's like being held in an iron grip by a strong soldier who is ramming into me –_

_Fucking amazing..._

_My mind slowly dissolves, unwinds, like it has been doing these past days, sometimes... it feels good... I would like this more often... it's scary, and I love the feeling of being in control, but this is so relaxing... no responsibilities, I can't do anything, you say what happens, and I can trust you..._

_I'm sinking deeper into the blissful serenity in my mind as my body squirms and moans under your onslaught._

 

 

As I continue to drive myself into you, my hand slowly moves down your abdomen... as I press against your back, my fingers circle around your erect cock. Your groan is pure animal desire, and I nearly come then and there.

"Fuck, baby..." I moan deliriously. "Nothing has ever made me as hot as you... ever, _ever_...” I'm thrusting into you, jerking us back and forth like one entity, while I stroke your cock hard and fast.

"Come for me, Jim... come for me, baby..." I growl against your ear, feeling lust building in me, building and building as we gasp for breath.

 

 

_An intense sensation of bliss - your hand on my cock is the perfect counterpart to your pounding in my arse. The ecstasy nearly too much - I hadn’t realized how hard and desperate my cock had been. I hear your words, only adding to the frenzy, and I hear a groan through the words which must be me then, though it’s not a sound I’ve ever heard myself make._

_You’re speaking to me in a delightful turnaround of our usual dynamics, and I realize how hot it is to have the man you love hold you, fuck you hard, grab your cock, and tell you to come for him - I will, Sebastian, fuck I will..._

_My muscles tense, my fists clench, an inhuman groan escapes my throat, as I feel the incomparable sensation of my seed spurting up, up, out into your skilled hand... “Sebastian... you’re fucking amazing... god, Sebastian...”_

 

 

Fuck, it’s unbelievably hot to be moving together as one as I stroke you into a loud, shivering orgasm. “So are you, baby...” I groan, as I thrust into you hard and strong. Soon I’m moaning and shuddering against you and spilling my seed into you. Leaning against your back, I loosen my grip on you - slowly I lower you to the bed, and fall next to you, panting. I roll you over so I can gather you up against my chest.

Why am I feeling so possessive today? Because we went out into the world, and I felt threatened by leaving our cocoon? God... how will we ever function in the world again?

“I love you, my angel...” I murmur into your hair. I kiss your forehead and breathe in your scent. “Fuck the world. This is all I need...”

 

 

_“Angel?” I chuckle. “That’s a new one... I don’t think even Mam ever called me angel._

_You’re right, Tiger... the world can piss off. I much prefer the arms of my husband... “_

_I trail my fingers over your face, tracing the edges of your stubble, the lines of your face, so familiar, so dear..._

_“I meant what I said, Tiger. We’ll stay here until we’re both good and ready to leave, and then we’ll go wherever we both feel comfortable going. I’m not going to make you go anywhere or do anything you don’t want._

_I’m still in charge... because well. I’m a bossy little fucker,” I grin. “But your voice counts as much as mine. You know that, yeah?”_

 

 

"Yeah, I know you're a bossy little fucker..." I laugh as you roll your eyes at me. "And the rest. Don't worry, I'm well aware that you're in charge..." I kiss you fiercely. "And I fucking like it that way."

I caress your hair. "You're my dark angel... ruler of the realm. And I'll have words with anyone who thinks otherwise..."

 

 

_“Mmm... you’re sexy when you have words with people...” I snuggle close to you, yawn._

_“All this holidaying is making me an immensely lazy kitten... I’ll be rubbish back in London. ‘No, Tony, I can’t meet at two, that’s my afternoon nap time. No, Sebastian can’t come either, he’s who I’m napping with. Yes, napping. No, that’s not what the kids call it these days.’”_

_I stretch my arms around you. “We didn’t lock up, did we... I’m so glad that I’m in charge, so I can order you to go and lock the doors and then come back for a nap...”_

_I hear your chuckle and feel your kiss, but I’m already halfway asleep..._

 

 

I drag my arse away from my sleepy boss and pad to the stairs. Did you just refer to yourself as a kitten?? I grin widely - all the attitude (cattitude?) you threw back at me all this time whenever I called you Kitten, and now it's what you're calling yourself? Hah - my work here is done. I laugh all the way down the stairs. Once everything is secured, I look out the window at our slice of paradise and sigh with pleasure. Idly I wonder if my wounds will be healed enough to be whipped soon - if yesterday's submission made me get all aggressive, I wonder what my possessive behaviour today will inspire in you next. Round and round we go... I'm smiling when I return to the bedroom. Then the sight of you curled up and sleeping takes my breath away. God, I just left you a couple of minutes ago... _I'm in so deep, baby_. I stand next to the bed staring at you, my heart melting as I drink in your perfect face. Wasn't Lucifer the most beautiful angel, after all? I think back to a biblical reference and it comes back to me with stunning clarity: “Your heart became proud on account of your beauty, and you corrupted your wisdom because of your splendour.” Huh... proud, beautiful, corrupt, wise, splendorous... you say that like it's a bad thing, Ezekiel! Sounds like the only heaven I would want any part of...

Carefully I climb in next to you, my beautiful dark prince, and gather you to me. I lie next to you feeling your heart beat, listening to you breathe until I drift off to sleep.

   

\-------------------------------------------------End of Book 5-----------------------------------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist:  
> Demons - Imagine Dragons  
> Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace  
> Devil in Me - Halsey  
> Humming - Portishead  
> Until It Sleeps - Metallica  
> Pain - Boy Harsher  
> The Onrush of Events- Max Richter (Score from Taboo)  
> Killer Queen - Queen  
> Mad World - Michael Andrews  
> Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Lorde  
> Ruby Tuesday - The Rolling Stones  
> Relax - Frankie Goes to Hollywood  
> The Power of Love - Frankie Goes to Hollywood  
>   
> If you've enjoyed Roses and Tequila for Santa Muerte, be sure to check out the next instalment in the series: Crime and Punishment https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070998/chapters/40141688


End file.
